Aerie
by BugeishaKyasarin
Summary: No more running. She decided to put her trust in the Auditore, but will it be enough to prevent war? If she fails, the whole world will plunge into chaos, a nightmare from which there is no waking. Sacrifices must be made. Those who protect the innocent soar high on righteous wings, wings she longs to grow. Honor, devotion, love... Some things can only be conveyed through battle.
1. Prologue: Legacy

Prologue

Legacy

My name is Didem Bayrakdarian.

I know that's a bit of a mouthful; blame my parents. My father is a cousin of the Canadian opera singer Isabel Bayrakdarian. They were both born in Lebanon and moved to North America as teenagers. He met my mother, then a dancer in a Middle Eastern restaurant, in New York. When they got married they moved to San Francisco in order to escape the stress that comes with living in the Big Apple. When I was born my parents didn't have a name picked out yet, so my mother blessed me with the moniker of one of her idols: the Turkish belly dancer Didem.

I thought it was a weird name, so I made everyone call me Dee. Then in junior high I somehow acquired this annoying nickname of DeeBay. Even my teachers occasionally let it slip. By the time I became a sophomore in high school, I learned to love that stupid name. It was so catchy I had it printed on my shirt for phys-ed class. That was also the year I started following in my mother's footsteps despite many arguments stating I would end up doing the exact opposite.

Isn't it funny how that happens? As a teenager you hate everything your parents stand for and want to grow up to be completely unlike them. But when I turned twenty, I realized we had more in common that I would have admitted a few years ago.

Apparently one of the things we shared was an affiliation with a group of people called Assassins.

I was taken in the middle of June after dancing solo at a renaissance faire. It was a great day without a cloud in the sky. Although it was only my second live performance in front of a huge audience I was without stage fright. My outfit was stunning, my hairstyle secure, and everyone was staring at me in wonder and amazement. One thing I realized about belly dancing is that both men and women admire the courage of anyone brave enough to perform it.

Anyway, after the show I returned to my friend's campsite to get some water, and all of a sudden two random guys show up. I first noticed they were wearing suits, nice white ones that were probably Armani or Calvin Klein. Then one of them spoke into a strange device on his wrist and the other shot at me with a weird gun; I barely had time to register the dart sticking out of my arm. When I woke up, I was in a plain white room where everything looked high-tech, and my clothes had been changed.

As soon as I stood up from the bed, a panel in the wall slid aside and in walked a balding older man with a thick white beard. He introduced himself as Dr. Warren Vidic, a researcher working for a company called Abstergo, which I'd never heard of. He informed me I had been "procured" and safely transported to their laboratory in Italy where they would like to run a few mental tests.

The first thing I thought was "how did I get from northern Cali to Italy in a day?" Then it occurred to me that I must have been unconscious for a really long time. I didn't believe Vidic was a real doctor— he had an unsettling look in his eye that made me suspicious of his line of work... he had said _mental_ tests after all.

But for fear of being shot and dumped in a back alley where no one would ever think to look for me, I followed the man to a different room with an odd-looking table in it. There, a woman with blonde hair in a white lab coat introduced herself as Lucy Stillman. Vidic regarded me like a murderer does a victim while Lucy attached sensors to my head.

I didn't even ask what the machine did, but the doctors took turns explaining it to me. "This is the Animus," Vidic spoke fondly, "a device that lets us see the memories of your ancestors."

"Basically it uses genetic memory retrieval to go back in time and let you see the lives of ancient relatives," Lucy added while focusing intently on her keyboard.

Now I had even more questions than before. Who were these people... besides Abstergo scientists? Why in the world did they want to see into _my_ past? I didn't even know that much about my family history, but apparently there was something worth looking for in it. Since I hadn't said anything at all, they both stared down expectantly.

"Well?" Vidic prodded, hoping I'd be impressed. "Aren't you going to ask why we chose you to enter the Animus?"

I shook my head as best I could, for it was trapped beneath a thin visor. "No... I just want you to get done doing whatever you're doing and let me go home."

They both kind of smirked. "I do believe she's the most cooperative subject we've had so far," the old man remarked. He looked back at me. "Didem—"

"Dee," I quickly clarified. I sure as heck did not want these people feeling we were familiar enough to use my given name.

"Dee..." Vidic smiled kindly, though it was laced with malice of the psychological variety, "You are going to be unconscious. Physically your body will not respond to any of the things you see in the Animus, but it will feel like you are really living the life of your ancestor. When you wake up, some things may be different about you."

"...Like how different?" I asked. My nerves suddenly decided to explode in my stomach and I felt like I was going to be sick. Was I going to come out of this thing a mutant?

"You may find you possess certain qualities of your ancestor. There will be no physical effects, no transmutations or anything out of a sci-fi horror, but if you do 'change' in the Animus, we will have to run further tests."

"Okay..." I mumbled. "Can we just get this over with?"

And that was the last thing I remember until opening my eyes in that pure white room again.

* * *

It went on like this for a couple weeks. I would wake up, be escorted to the Animus, plugged in, and have my brain probed for hours on end. Getting out of the Animus left me so exhausted that all I could do was sleep, and even then I began to have weird dreams of times long passed. I saw myself as many different women in history, all of whom were presumably my ancestors. Sometimes I would wake up with the ability to speak languages I had no prior knowledge of, seemingly forgetting English. Whenever that happened I was whisked off to a different lab where two men -one technician and one translator- would attach wires to my temples and just have random conversations with me until I started speaking English again. One day I overheard the linguist talking to Vidic outside the room; I was surprised they didn't use thicker glass.

"So far we've recorded Subject 13 conversing in Arabic, Persian and Turkish, as well as several dialects that are exclusive to certain regions of those areas."

"But when it wears off, she is unable to remember any of it?"

"Precisely," the linguist said. "She can't even say her own name any other way."

"Interesting..." Vidic mused. "Upload those dictionaries to the Omniglot Program and let her listen to them tomorrow. We'll be able to tell if her temporal lobe has been traumatized or not."

Now, thanks to my genius father I knew exactly what they were talking about. He studies archaic languages for fun, thus I know that "omniglot" is Latin and means "all tongues". They probably had a Rosetta Stone-type program going on to teach their employees how to become fluent in any language fast and were studying me because every time I left the Animus I was speaking a different language perfectly. Admittedly it was interesting to learn about my eclectic gene pool, but I was worried that sometime soon I would leave the Animus believing I was somebody else entirely.

Thankfully that never happened. In fact, I only spent three more days under Abstergo's unwavering gaze because one night I awoke to someone in my room who was wearing the exact opposite of a white lab coat. It was a ninja. At least, that was my first impression of the man. He scared the wits out of me when I noticed him right by my side. "Don't scream," he whispered as soon as my eyes flew open, and leaned over a little. "Didem?"

"Y-y-yes, that's me." My teeth chattered like one of those wind-up toys. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Your father sent me to rescue you. I can't delay— you need to come with me _now_. A guard is on the way to check in on you." He turned toward a rope hanging from one of the ceiling panels and I couldn't help but feel I was in a spy movie like _Mission: Impossible_.

"Are we really going to crawl around the air conditioning ducts?" I skeptically asked from the ground. The ninja was already climbing up the rope and glanced down at me.

"You can stay here to continue being mind-fucked if you really want," he replied with a harsh smirk. I was momentarily stunned, my mouth dropping open incredulously, but I realized he was right: I should follow him if it meant a chance at returning to my real life.

Once we were in the ventilation system, which was just wide enough to shimmy through on my belly, I tried to figure out what was really happening. "Who are you, exactly?" I asked with a gasp because my chest was being compressed.

"Johnathan Carpenter," was the answer. "Professional corporate espionage agent, and savior of fine women."

I let that comment slide. "Okay Johnathan... how did my father find out where I was? These people abducted me, so it's not like they wrote him a letter explaining that they were going to be messing around with my brain for god knows how long."

We turned a corner which allowed us more room, so I scooted along on hands and knees. "You underestimate your family, Dee. Your father's company is very powerful. These people, Abstergo, have been a corporate nemesis for a long time. Have you heard anything about the Omniglot Program?"

"Yes..." I answered suspiciously.

"Your father's company developed it first and Abstergo stole it. He believes they planted a mole in BayTech a long time ago, and waited for a technology like it to be developed."

"Why does Abstergo want a glorified Rosetta Stone program?"

Johnathan paused to look back at me and I almost ran into his butt. "Think about it. What is the easiest way to tell a tourist? They have accents or barely speak the language of whatever country they're visiting. If you're a spy or a recruiter, it's a lot easier to communicate when people believe you're a native. You make a personal connection based on language alone."

"That hardly seems nefarious."

He scoffed. "Okay, what is one profession where translators are quintessential?"

"Televangelism?" I snarked.

"Interpreting for the United Nations."

Woah. "You think... Abstergo would send suicide bombers into the United Nations building under the guise of interpreters?"

"Assassins, not bombers," Johnathan clarified. "That's what we think they are doing right now: planning to kill the leaders of certain countries to put their own members into power. You don't realize it, Dee, but Abstergo is really just the public corporate face of a very secretive and ancient gathering of evil people. They're called the Knights Templar."

Just as I was beginning to wrap my head around his explanation, Johnathan slipped out of the ventilation system and landed in a small, dark room. I maneuvered myself through the square in the ceiling less gracefully and barely had a moment to catch my breath before being dragged through a narrow tunnel. "Where are we going _now?_" I demanded.

"A safe house," was all he said as we exited out of the laboratory into a back alley where a black Maserati was waiting.

"Oh, _this_ is low-profile all right," I snorted with an eye roll. Johnathan was definitely enjoying his role as James Bond.

My rescuer's teeth flashed in the dark night. "It's fast as hell and we need to get to Monteriggioni before dawn. So get in, sit down, buckle up and hang on."

Really? Quoting the tacky license plate frame? This guy was unreal! In fact, as we sped away from the place that had been my prison for the past couple weeks, I knew I must be dreaming— no one had known what happened to me, there was no way anyone had been able to find out where I was. If these Abstergo people were as diabolical as described, how could they have let a ninja sent by my father infiltrate my cell so easily?

"Monteriggioni?" I asked after a moment. It was a weird name that was hard to say. "What's there?"

Johnathan gave me a half-smile that said he wouldn't be able to answer all my questions. "It's an Assassin safe house. There is someone there who has been contracted by your father to keep you secure until safe transport back to the States can be arranged."

"Assassins?" I repeated, a bit incredulous. Assassins and Templars and evil plots... The whole world was going crazy!

What the hell I had been dragged in to? More importantly... why _me?_


	2. Chapter 1: Historian

Chapter One

Historian

The Assassins were not at all like I was expecting. When we reached Monteriggioni, Johnathan led me into an enormous mansion that would have looked very romantic seven-hundred years ago. The stone of the terrace was weathered and grey; the statues defeated, and plant life scarce. The village itself made me wonder how anyone could live here without being completely depressed.

We entered the villa through a secretive doorway. Only it wasn't so secretive because there was a mass of cords emerging from it. "Subtle," I snickered as Johnathan felt along the wall for something. If I hadn't been expecting it already, the bookshelf that slid aside to reveal a long, dank staircase would have greatly surprised me.

"Of _course_ the meeting place for members of a secret society wouldn't be complete without a typical underground hideout!" I rolled my eyes when Johnathan gave me an annoyed look. I should be taking this a little more seriously, but it still seemed like we had been transformed into characters from a spy novel. Down the steps we went, following the trail of extension cords until reaching the mouth of a very large, cluttered cavern.

Admittedly my jaw dropped upon the sight of each enormous statue. There were seven of them along the rear half of the circular domed room. Though their visages were made of solid stone, I couldn't help but feel like fourteen eyes were trained on me, scrutinizing the very fiber of my being. I wasn't an Assassin; I was just some woman thrown into their world.

"Ah, Johnathan!" A guy with brown hair and glasses briskly approached my rescuer. "Long time no see! How goes the corporate sabotage?"

"Same old, same old," Johnathan smiled, meeting the man's open palm with his own. They shook vigorously, beaming like two friends who hadn't seen each other in ages. "Well, I guess this month was a little out of the ordinary for me…" The man in the black bodysuit stepped aside, holding an arm out toward me. I shuffled forward slightly. "This is Didem Bayrakdarian, the girl I was sent to retrieve from Abstergo."

The guy with glasses lowered them a little, examining me in too thorough a manner. I frowned at the x-ray intensity of his gaze. "Well color me impressed," he said with a British accent, "she's more gorgeous than YouTube led me to believe!"

"You looked me up on YouTube?" I asked in a flat tone, even though I was aghast. Who the heck was this guy?!

"Ah, Dee..." Johnathan interjected, "I'd like you to meet Shaun Hastings. Despite what you just heard, he is quite brilliant with computers."

Shaun smirked a little. "I'm flattered. But really, are you sure this girl is clean? No tracking chip implanted in her skin? 'Cause it would really ruin our plans if Abstergo discovered our little hideout."

Oh, there's the kicker: he's totally paranoid. "Nobody at the lab put a needle in my skin," I said in a calm tone. "We made a clean getaway."

Johnathan nodded. "She's right. All they were interested in was her diverse gene pool. Dee spent more time with the Omniglot scientists than in the Animus itself."

"You'll have to tell me all about that, darling," Shaun smiled at me.

"Please don't call me that."

The grin faded. "Okay, sorry. C'mon, let me introduce you to the others." He led me toward the center of the room and I turned back to Johnathan with a nervous look on my face.

"You're safe with these people, Dee," the spy smiled. It carried a lot of reassurance. "I need to return to the States to inform your father of the situation and plan our next set of steps."

"But why can't I go with you?" I pleaded, searching his eyes for a real explanation. Didn't my parents miss me? Didn't they want me back as soon as possible?

Johnathan shook his head once more, so I sighed in defeat. "I'll be seeing you again, Dee. Just try to relax until then." With that my savior left, and I agreed it would be better to get to know these Assassins and cooperate with them to the best of my ability instead of annoy them with constant complaining.

* * *

Rebecca Crane didn't really give me a second glance as she typed away on her computer. "Don't expect much hospitality from this one..." Shaun said in a rather disdainful manner. "Unless it has to do with the Animus, she won't have a conversation with you."

"The Animus?" I repeated. "_You_ have one?"

Like a switch being turned on, Rebecca hopped up from her chair and beamed at me. I thought I was short, but I had to look down into her face. "We couldn't let Abstergo have all the fun, could we? That's why I improved their specs and built the Animus 2.0. Baby is slimmer, more efficient, and less of a drag on your brain." She patted the machine affectionately which made me laugh.

"So who is this?" I inquired of the man currently occupying "Baby". He was wearing jeans and a white hoody, and had close-cropped dark brown hair and a face that seemed way too familiar. I leaned in for closer inspection. Yes... the cheeks, the nose, the lips all reminded me of someone I had seen before. The scar across his mouth should have been a dead giveaway. Yet I couldn't place him in my memory.

"This is Desmond Miles," Rebecca offered. "He was born into the Order and actively eluded us until Abstergo captured him a while ago. But thanks to Lucy we got him back, and now we're using his genetic memory to search for a very powerful artifact."

"Lucy?" I asked, shuddering at the image of the woman whose tight blonde bun made her features so unkind. "Lucy Stillman?"

"Yes, that's me," came a voice from behind. I whirled around with wide eyes to see her face partially smiling its hello. "I'm surprised to see you here, Dee."

"The feeling is mutual..." I practically growled.

Both Shaun and Rebecca's eyes flicked between us. "Um, Lucy is actually an agent we sent to infiltrate Abstergo a long time ago," the shorter girl explained. "She's the reason I was able to build this Animus. The Templars had no idea she would double-cross them until she broke Desmond out of their lab."

"So you are really one of the good guys?" I inquired with much skepticism.

"Yes," the woman nodded. "I brought Desmond here so we could search for the Apple on our own terms. Vidic was obsessed with finding it. As soon as it was discovered back at the lab that Desmond's ancestor had physically interacted with the Apple, I got him out of there. Now we hope to find it before the Templars."

"What use would they have for an apple? What's so special about a fruit?"

The three Assassins looked at me with mild disbelief. "You mean you don't know?" Rebecca finally asked. "How do you not know about the Apple of Eden?"

"What is that?"

Incredulous, she turned to Lucy. "What was Abstergo doing with her if they weren't using her ancestors to find Pieces of Eden?"

"They had me in the Omniglot Program," I offered. "When I went in the Animus I would come out speaking a different language. It was like I had no knowledge of English at all. They recorded my conversations and when it faded away I was sent back to my room until next time."

The answer did little to placate their confusion. Lucy remained tight-lipped as always, but Shaun stepped forward and pushed me away from the two women. "You and I need to have a chat. I can tell you don't trust Lucy, but she didn't know you would be coming here in the first place. Johnathan contacted me specifically, so the others have no idea of who you are."

"How do you even know him?" I wondered, taking a seat on one of the many crates lining the outer edge of the cavern. Shaun sat down next to me.

"We worked together on the same job a long time ago. I'm a hacker, you see, and he was the agent sent in to retrieve hard copies of the information. We were contracted by the same business to gather dirt on their rival, and then I got into trouble with Abstergo. Seems they didn't appreciate me posting information about their backwards dealings on WikiLeaks. That's when Rebecca intervened in my abduction, and I've been aiding the Assassins ever since."

"They kidnapped you, too?"

"Almost," the man grinned. "I escaped when they pulled into a gas station after I hacked the van's computer." My impressed expression was probably helping to inflate his ego, but the conversation became focused on me. "Tell me, Didem, what you remember about being in the lab."

Where to start? "I wish I could, but it feels like my memories are all scrambled together. They put me under, Lucy and Vidic, and each time I lived the life of a different woman in history. It was like I was being reincarnated over and over again." That sounded really stupid, so I blushed.

"Go on," Shaun urged.

"My father is Lebanese and my mother is Turkish, but it turns out my whole lineage is comprised of Middle Eastern cultures. Turkey, Syria, Arabia, Persia... I even saw Jerusalem once. And the Babylonian hanging gardens. I remember some of these amazing things that have been lost to history, but most of it is just clouds and smoke. If that makes sense."

The man nodded. "Did any of the workers ever mention the Pieces of Eden, or ancient artifacts?"

"I don't really remember..." was my morose reply. "I _can't_ remember."

"Well, allow me to fill in some blanks," Shaun smiled. "Abstergo wanted Desmond because his ancestor came in contact with a very powerful device called the Apple of Eden. He is Subject 17. They found him after probing the memories of Subject 16, who committed suicide in his cell but not before writing messages all over the lab with his own blood. Or that's what Desmond tells us, since it seemed only he could see them."

"How morbid," I said with a grimace. "Who was Subject 16?"

"I don't really know, but Lucy was working with him. What I do know is that he suffered from something called the Bleeding Effect; that is, he believed he _was_ his ancestor, an Assassin. He was able to demonstrate assassin abilities even though he had come into the lab without knowledge or skill."

My eyes were wide. "That's what the Animus did to him? So being able to speak the languages of my ancient relatives was like the Bleeding Effect?"

"It _is_ the Bleeding Effect, just not as severe," Shaun explained. "Chances are, Didem, that you were taken by them because they found something in the genetic memory of another subject linking it to you."

"…What could it be?" I asked after a moment.

The Englishman shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. Let's ask Lucy."

* * *

"It's called Soul Edge," the blonde woman apprehensively explained. Rebecca, Shaun and I were sitting before her, listening intently. "We first found it in one of our early subjects, but thought nothing of it. But then it appeared again in Desmond... in the memory of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad... before his search for the Apple."

"So this Soul Edge device precedes the Pieces of Eden?" Shaun inquired. But Lucy shook her head.

"I don't know, we never discovered its origins. It wasn't a device like the Apple, either. It was… a weapon, I guess." Confusion flickered across her visage. "Some kind of weapon that transformed the body of whoever wielded it into... a monster." She looked up at us intensely. "Around the time of the Third Crusade, Templars gathered outside Jerusalem to fight an Assassin army led by Altaïr. That was when we discovered an ancestor of yours, Didem... Tülay al-Mhámmed from medieval Turkey."

I had never heard the name before, so I shook my head. "I don't know that much about my family history besides going back to my great-grandparents. But when I was in the Animus, it seemed like I was living as different women from the Middle East."

Lucy nodded. "Right. Your earliest ancestor that we could synchronize lived in Turkey and Syria for a time. But it was the battle in Jerusalem that Vidic was mostly focused on. Because..." She faltered, making a face. "Well, it's hard to explain what happened..."

"Come out with it," Shaun kindly prodded.

"Soul Edge... _attached_ itself to your ancestor, Didem."

We all stared at her blankly, especially me because I had no idea what she was talking about. How could Lucy and Vidic have seen something in the Animus that I had absolutely no knowledge of? Had my mind built up a wall to contain such memories?

"Then what happened?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"We cross-referenced the event in Desmond's genetic memory, and it was exactly the same. Your ancestors fought in the same battle against a man named Isaac Comnenus."

"I know that name," Shaun jumped in. "He took over the island of Cyprus and was generally a pain in the ass for everyone during the Third Crusade. He even had the balls to hold King Richard's fiancée and sister hostage when their ship wrecked there. But he wasn't really associated with any faction of that time. He fell when Richard invaded Cyprus and sold it to the Knights Templar."

Lucy waved her hands. "History lesson aside, Vidic decided to pursue information about Soul Edge since it had been powerful enough to make an impression in two separate strands of genetic memory. But by that time I had broken Desmond out of the lab and regrouped with these two."

"And this all happened... before Johnathan brought me here?" I tried to clarify. "How come I don't remember anything you've described? I don't understand..."

Rebecca cleared her throat softly. "Right now we're tracking another of Desmond's ancestors, an Italian nobleman named Ezio Auditore. But if you'd like to enter the Animus and try to find out about this Soul Edge device, we can do that, too."

I saw Lucy's eyes flash at the suggestion, so I couldn't help but wonder if she was still highly interested in it. I was too, I guess... I mostly wanted to learn what the scientists had seen while my mind set up a fortified blockade to prevent me from recalling anything. I glanced at her. "What did you say the name of my ancestor was?"

"Tülay al-Mhámmed," she repeated.

_'New moon...'_ I thought. _'A time of uncertain darkness...'_ A strange tingling sensation went through me just then, like how I felt during my first solo performance. I knew my gut was telling me to pursue this link to my past because it might help me discover something amazing. "Okay..." I agreed after a lengthy silence. "I'll enter the Animus and help you look for Soul Edge."

Shaun was shocked. "Really? Why?"

"Because I have a feeling that something like Soul Edge, if it is such a powerful weapon, wouldn't go unnoticed through the remainder of history up until now. I want to find out what happened to it. And you said it attached to my ancestor, so..." I trailed off, giving Lucy a rather defeated shrug. She partially smiled at the gesture.

"Well that's great!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Now maybe we'll be able to bring two super powerful artifacts under the supervision of our Order."

"Yay, more work for me..." Shaun grumbled. He wandered over to his work area and presumably opened Google to begin searching for anything related to Soul Edge. He looked incredibly bored so I turned my attention to Desmond, who right then woke up from Baby. Lucy was beside him, helping him sit up whilst groggy. I recalled feeling that way whenever exiting the Animus and immediately being transferred to the room with the translator and his assistant. I remembered the feeling of cold wired pads on my temples and forehead, but not much else. _'Maybe my mind is too weak to hold on to every little detail...'_ I reasoned. _'That's why it all seems like one big blur.'_

Lucy said my ancestor was alive during the Third Crusade. That was over eight centuries ago. If Soul Edge caused so much chaos in the Middle East, there had to have been some people keeping watch over it, right? To make sure nobody got their hands on it to use it for evil purposes. If only I had seen what Lucy and Vidic had, then maybe I could offer something more to the team besides being the one whose memory they watched like a movie.

The sound of Rebecca's voice pierced my thoughts. "I have to reconfigure Baby a little bit, and then she'll be ready for you."

"All right..." I nodded, following Lucy and Desmond with my eyes. My old relative existed in his genetic memory, so perhaps I could find out about her before stumbling blindly back in time. I wish Johnathan had better prepared me for dealing with these Assassins and their strange machinations.


	3. Chapter 2: Cipher

_**Translations**_  
_Fratellino: little brother_  
_Dottore: doctor_  
_Fottiti: fuck you_  
_Salut: hello (R)_  
_Ma certo: but of course_  
_Scusi, signorina: excuse me, miss_  
_Palazzo: mansion/palace_  
_Mia columba: my dove_  
_Mia cara: my dear_  
_Fantasma: ghost/spirit_  
_Perfetto: perfect_  
_Tartaruga: tortoise/slowpoke_  
_Fiorini: florins (currency)_  
_Altezza: Highness_  
_Cazzo: fuck_  
_Puttana: whore_  
_Merda: shit_  
_Va bene: very well_

* * *

Chapter Two

Cipher

I felt like a stalker. Watching Desmond recover from the Animus was interesting yet morbid at the same time because I knew I had acted in a similar if not worse manner. Lucy was way too worried about him; she made him sip from a water bottle, asked questions regarding his mental state, and generally had her obvious affection for the man on display. I had no idea how old Desmond was but I would guess our ages were similar, and Lucy seemed a lot older due to the way her bun pulled the skin on her face back, making her features tight and harsh.

Was I jealous? Maybe a little. Desmond was fairly handsome and could have passed for a man of my heritage, yet I noticed how entranced he was by Lucy. His dark eyes followed her around the cavern like an old dog waiting for its master to return with a full bowl of food. They made me sigh.

Finally my opportunity to speak with Desmond arrived when Lucy mentioned she was going outside to patrol the grounds. Although I was anxious and eager to skip right over and begin a conversation, I walked the other way first, toward Shaun's work area. His chin rested in one hand and a calm, almost dopey smile had captured his lips. As I drew closer I heard a song emanating from his speakers, an ethnic drum solo I recognized instantly. I frowned as the computer monitor came into view.

"Are you really watching YouTube videos of me?"

"Indeed," the man admitted with a wistful sigh. "You are an amazing dancer, Didem. I wish I could have seen you in person before all this." Suddenly his eyes grew bright and sparkling as he spun to grasp my hands in his own fervent grip. "Couldn't you dance right here, right now, before my very eyes?"

"Uh, the answer is no," I said with some disgust, recoiling slightly. "This really isn't an appropriate time."

He looked so dejected I almost laughed out loud. "What a pity..." Then he sighed again and returned to the screen. It was a video of a performance with my old troupe before I had opened my own studio and began a teaching career. The lively music and our bright costumes adorned with ethnic trinkets had enthralled the crowd and earned much hooting and hollering. It was easy to separate me from the other dancers— I was the girl wearing a Hazara tribal headdress.

For a few minutes I forgot all about Desmond; I was kind of upset with Shaun for ogling my undulating abdomen yet also flattered that he found me attractive. I never dated much; I suppose being a belly dancer garners the automatic assumption that I'm great in bed... except I'd only ever had sex once, when I was fifteen.

It was a really stupid thing for me to do. I was so obsessed with rebelling against and pissing off my parents that I had sneaked out of the house to go to some rich kid's party, and ended up drinking way too much and making out with a boy whom I admitted I had a crush on. He said he thought I was hot too, and alcohol and hormones ran away with our inhibitions and we ended up doing it in the guest bedroom upstairs. I was actually the one who said "I'm just not that into you" and went home as soon as possible— inebriated, dizzy, confused and excited all at once because I wasn't a virgin any more. Could that be any more cliché?

It was Desmond who startled me out of my reverie. I jumped slightly and turned to see him regarding me in an interested yet suspicious manner that I probably reflected. He wasn't much taller than I, but I still tilted my head back to look down my nose at him. "How was the Animus?" I asked lamely.

"Same as always," he replied with a shrug, "I watch one of my ancestors run around renaissance Italy. He's seventeen and horny."

This caught me off guard. "What?" I snickered.

"His name's Ezio," Desmond elaborated with a slight smile. "He lived in Florence and got into a gang fight with some guys called the Pazzi, and later that night climbed through a window into the room of a girl named Cristina, and they... tangled the sheets."

His faint blush made my grin widen. "You saw all that through the Animus?"

"I can't choose what I see," he shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just along for the ride."

All my preconceived notions of Desmond flew out the window. He sounded just like me— he just wanted to get it over with and go home. He had a very non-intimidating demeanor which was probably the reason why I felt so at ease now. "So Desmond..." I casually began, "Lucy tells me you've seen one of my ancestors who fought alongside _your_ ancestor, Altaïr. She said her name was Tülay al-Mhámmed. Do you remember her at all?"

The man furrowed his brow as he scrolled through the portrait gallery of his memory. "A girl named Tülay? Why are you asking me? Shouldn't you know all about her?"

My gaze fell to the ground. "The thing is... I can't remember her at all. Or anything I saw while at Abstergo's lab. I can't recall _any_ faces of the ancestors I may have seen while in the Animus." Desmond and I wandered over to a pair of crates and sat down. He still remained deep in thought, but I was growing impatient. "She was a dancer," I offered.

"Oh!" he abruptly exclaimed, looking triumphant. But the expression quickly shifted to one of embarrassment, and he coughed nervously. "Yeah, I remember her..."

"So what was she like?" I prodded. "Can't you tell me?"

"I can... but..." The blossom in his cheeks was growing deeper. "Um, Altaïr and Tülay... they were, uh..."

"Romantically involved?" came Shaun's obnoxious finishing statement. We turned to see him smirking. "Are you saying that your and Didem's ancestors were _shagging_?"

Bewildered, I faced Desmond once more, who was staring at the ceiling in an attempt to avoid my face. "Um, yeah... they had a lot of sex."

Now _I_ was the one blushing. "Wow... really? Was that all she was to him?"

"No!" the man in the white hoody refuted. "They really loved each other. Tülay left her own country to follow Altaïr to the home of the Assassins, Masyaf. Then she became an Assassin, too."

"Really?" Shaun and I asked in harmony, one more intrigued than the other. He trained his eyes on me and laughed incredulously. "That means there is Assassin blood in your veins, Didem."

The truth struck me like a slap in the face. My mouth hung open uselessly as a different smile claimed Shaun's lips and Desmond leaned back to examine me fully. Rebecca approached with a smug little grin. "I knew you belonged here," she said. "And if you want to learn more about your past, Baby is waiting to help you discover it. What do you say?"

A resolute nod was her answer. "I'm ready. I'll enter the Animus."

* * *

A sea of terracotta tiles as far as the eye could see. The dying light of the sun struck the tallest rooftops with spears of bright orange and blood red, and glinted off cascading droplets from fountains below. The leaves of trees and young plants wavered in a soft breeze that caressed the city like the gentle hand of a lover, and a girl situated high above the ever-thinning crowd sighed wistfully.

Florence was so beautiful, she truly realized. It made a grand impression on one walking through its many streets and secluded alleys where the architecture of the Renaissance was prominent in every structure, and peeking into galleries proved how unrestrained the artists were. Lovely paintings hung on walls and sculptures sat proudly atop marble daises for all to admire. But the girl knew that this very moment was the definition of what had attracted her to the city in the first place.

She felt _free_. She felt at peace. Her mother and grandmother were not around to constantly nag and harass her about such trivial things as hair style and choice of jewelry. She was nineteen years old for God's sake, certainly capable of making those decisions on her own. Admittedly, however, it had been rather immature of her to run away from home without giving her elders a proper farewell.

"I wonder if they miss me..." the girl murmured to none but her own ears. Who else was on the rooftops to hear? _'No one at all knows I am here.'_

Just then her azure gaze was averted to a bridge where two groups of boys were shouting heated and insulting words at each other. She had learned the basics of the Italian language but only knew how to speak it very properly, and there was nothing kind or formal about their dispute. The girl stood to carefully traverse some adjoining rooftops in order to see the action more closely and crouched beside a chimney, gasping as she witnessed one dark-haired boy get struck with a stone from the opposing side.

"The fight begins!" she narrated in a hushed tone, snorting as the two factions met in a flurry of flying fists. "Boys are so violent..." The brawling continued for several minutes until a young man in pompous attire commanded his cohorts to flee the scene, then a pair of victors took turns looting the bodies of their unconscious enemies. The girl couldn't condemn them for stealing since that was how she had acquired some of the funds for her journey.

The wind lifted their words to her ears. "Aye fratellino, that's a nasty cut Vieri gave you! Let us visit the dottore."

"It's not that bad, Federico... I'll live."

"I can't let you return home with blood all over your shirt! Come, we'll get you stitched up." She preferred the tone of this boy's voice— it was smooth, strong and confident.

Intrigued by the duo, the girl on the roof watched them meander through the streets, the boy with dark hair bound back shielding his bleeding lip from the thinning public. But when they passed beneath a covered thoroughfare, the girl quickly scrambled down the wall of a low building to pursue them on foot, oblivious to the strange looks she received due to her skirt being hiked up above her knees.

Peeking around the corner of a brick store, she spied the young men conversing with a masked physician in a dark robe. "You must help him!" the older brother, Federico, pleaded with mock urgency. "That pretty face is his only asset!"

"Fottiti..." the younger boy hissed, but let his facial wound be treated with some antiseptic. A few minutes later, after the two had wandered away from the doctor, Federico turned to his sibling with a broad grin.

"Now that you're all patched up, what do you say to a little race?"

"Where to?"

He pondered their goal. "How about... Santa Trinita, three blocks away." The younger brother puffed out his chest at the challenge. "But as an added measure to ensure you don't _cheat_, we can only run across the rooftops! What say you now?"

"Ezio Auditore would never dream of cheating! I can beat you without breaking a sweat!"

Federico laughed loudly. "All right, then. Get ready, little brother! On your mark... Go!"

And then they were gone. The girl had traversed enough structures for one night, and the sun had all but vanished below the horizon. It was time to return to the place she called temporary home, though sleep would not be granted immediately. The atmosphere of the brothel made it rather difficult to find rest.

"Salut..." The girl wearily greeted her matron as she slowly plodded through the door, realizing just how worn-out and tired she truly was. Paola raised an eyebrow.

"And where have _you_ been all day?"

"Searching for customers, ma certo." That was a lie— she'd been lounging around town without a care in the world for once.

The woman in the deep red dress frowned, though not enough to ruin her fine features. "Is that so? There were very few men who said they had been referred by you. That means you were not doing your job, and so you only get one little dish for supper."

"I was not very hungry anyway." The girl mustered a look of defiance which Paola scowled at a while longer before she sighed and dismissed the petite young woman. She had been unwilling to provide her real name so the matron of La Rosa Colta had taken to calling her 'Perdita', since the lass had been discovered playing a tambourine and kicking up her feet near the Arno for all the florins her audience might spare. In exchange for food and a roof, Perdita attracted men and directed them to the brothel in lieu of pleasuring them herself.

Sex outside marriage went against her faith or so the northern beauty had said. Compared to the much darker women of Florence, Perdita stood out like a swan amongst ravens, although she looked enough like a courtesan when dressed in a short skirt and corset. It was difficult for any man _not_ to take notice of her, even for a moment.

The young woman in question fell upon her bed like a sack of potatoes. Even though she had done nothing all day she felt very tired; perhaps traversing the roofs had sapped more of her strength than she believed. As such, sleep quickly claimed her aching muscles.

The next morning Perdita felt a bit rejuvenated after a long bath. She combed her hair until every tangle had been brushed loose and it rippled like a golden waterfall, the natural waves cascading down her back. She decorated her fingers with many rings so they would sparkle in the sunlight and catch attention. After slipping on a short, sleeveless chemise the young woman shimmied into the bright red skirt that was short in front yet reached her ankles in back, and finally she tightened a red brocade corset around her waist.

"Get something to eat!" Paola managed to call out just as Perdita slipped through the front door, but it closed on her words and the woman sighed. Her bait-girl needed a good, hearty meal to prevent her clothes from sliding right off her overly-slender frame. There was such a thing as being too thin, and men didn't find that body type attractive.

Perdita walked with a spring in her step to the fresh produce market and sashayed right up to her favorite vendor, a sixty-something-year-old man who was always happy to trade a small carton of grapes for a kiss on the cheek. The girl's pale pink lips split upon seeing him and the man instantly blushed before handing over her breakfast. "Grazie," Perdita thanked him in a soft, chiming voice. She popped the juicy grapes into her mouth as she made her way to the street running parallel to Palazzo Auditore, one of the largest banking houses in Florence.

She deduced it was a logical place to gain clients for La Rosa Colta; rich men had to find _some_ pleasurable outlet, right? She might as well persuade them to spend their money on eager-to-serve courtesans. Besides, it didn't matter what type of men went into the house of indulgence— they always came out looking satisfied.

In the late afternoon, after successfully referring yet another middle-aged noble, Perdita suddenly felt a finger tap her on the shoulder. She spun around in a startled manner, for she had not heard anyone approach from behind. She found herself staring face-to-face with the tall, handsome, short-haired boy she had seen fighting last night!

"Scusi, signorina…" the young man smiled charmingly, "I could not help but notice you. This is my father's palazzo, after all, and you've been standing out here all day."

Perdita's lips curled and she planted a hand on her hip. "What may I do for you?"

The boy's eyebrow arched upon hearing her thick accent. "Where are you from?" he wanted to know, his previous inquiry forgotten.

"Is that truly of importance?" she returned, brushing the boy's strong arm. The sight of him and his brother climbing and sprinting across the roofs of Florence was still fresh in her mind.

Federico laughed. "No, I suppose not… Can I ask your name?"

"Perdita," she answered, but frowned a little when the boy made a skeptical sound.

"What's your _real_ name, mia columba? I know you weren't born around here… you're much too beautiful."

Perdita unexpectedly found herself blushing; for once she had met someone who took her confidence down a level. The boy's deep brown eyes held a mixture of charm, arrogance and honesty, so it was difficult to keep focused on them. Her sky blue orbs fell to a clasp on his doublet as she bit her lip, seriously considering revealing her real name for the first time since entering Florence.

"Come on…" Federico pushed, slipping a finger beneath the girl's chin to draw her eyes back to his own. "Won't you tell me so I know what to call the most ravishing lady of Firenze?"

Just as Perdita licked her lips and parted them to give him an answer, a shout in their direction startled them greatly.

"Federico Auditore!" the boy's mother harshly admonished, "Get away from that _trollop_! Your father has been looking for you the last ten minutes, and I find you out here with this little red tart?!"

The young man offered an apologetic look before taking up the girl's hands in his own. "Ciao mia cara," he whispered. "I will see you again soon!" And with that he kissed them, winked, and crossed the street to join his mother, who pursed her lips and shook her head at his taste in women. Speechless and paralyzed, it took a moment for Perdita to regain command of the jumbled mess of thoughts occupying her mind. Not once during the year and a half she had called the city home had anyone spoken to her like Federico.

'_What… what does this mean?'_ she asked herself before dashing down the road on bare feet. People offered shocked looks when she sprinted by but Perdita didn't take notice, stopping only once she had reached a relatively abandoned back alley. She climbed up a pile of crates and jumped to grasp the ornate molding of the building, hoisting herself up onto the roof. The fresh air always cleared her head and made it possible to think.

"Federico…" the girl murmured his name aloud, aware that her cheeks were still burning. He was just so handsome! '_But he is one of them… an Auditore…'_ Perdita realized. _'He would never diminish himself by taking interest in one such as I.'_ Or would he, despite his mother's reaction?

Once more she stayed above the populace until twilight. Then, much to her complete and utter shock, a figure appeared at eye-level in the distance, climbing a tall tower that had once been the home of an eagle's nest. Perdita blinked a few times before recognizing Federico's younger brother, the one with longer hair who had gotten hit during the gang fight the previous day.

He ascended the tower slowly, which was understandable since it was relatively smooth except for the odd stone that jutted out. Perdita smiled when he reached the top and wiped his brow, taking in the surrounding view. He reached over the edge of the landing to gather a few wayward feathers that had lodged themselves in the brickwork.

Just then a particularly bright sunbeam lanced into the girl's eyes which caused her arm to cover them. Ezio caught the movement and squinted to discern her form, which was difficult because her attire matched the color of the sky. "Hey you!" the young Auditore called, jabbing his finger in her direction. "Fantasma!"

He didn't sound that friendly so Perdita scurried off the roof, dropping down into the alley with the grace of a cat. Sighing, Ezio shook his head, wishing he had gotten a better look at the person… if it even _was_ a person. Back on the ground he handed the eagle feathers over to his younger brother, Petruccio. "Did you say you saw a ghost?" the lad questioned.

"I don't know," Ezio shrugged. "I'm certain there was somebody not thirty feet away from me. It was hard to see with la sole blinding me."

"I wish I had seen!" the little boy said with some disappointment.

"Didn't I say you had to go to bed once you got those feathers?" Ezio folded his arms to convey authority. Petruccio tried to muster a look of defiance. "Bed. _Now_."

Back at La Rosa Colta, Perdita burst through the door in a flurry of red fabric and strewn hair. A few of the other girls gave bewildered looks and Paola appeared genuinely concerned. "Whatever is the matter?" the matron inquired.

Her bait-girl glanced up like a fox caught in a trap. "Nothing…" Perdita wheezed. "Nothing is wrong."

Was that guilt in her tone? Paola couldn't tell, so she glared as the foreign beauty went up the stairs to her room. Once inside she locked the door and stared at herself in the mirror, taking in her disheveled appearance as a result of her mad marathon to the brothel. Perdita had never really looked at herself, never scrutinized her own appearance. She didn't wear makeup or fancy jewelry like most of the real courtesans, so what could Federico possibly have seen that attracted him?

Blushing slightly, she sat down at her vanity desk in order to untangle her nest of golden locks. Maybe _that_ was something the boy had taken notice of… Maybe it was her smooth, ivory skin devoid of freckle, birthmark, scar or any other blemish. Maybe he had seen something in her eyes that were like the shallow fountains so numerous throughout the city. She wasn't a complicated girl; there was nothing hiding in them, no great depths to discern.

Perdita thought seriously of quitting her job to become a proper lady of Florence, then it would be appropriate for Federico to be seen with her. He could introduce her to his family without being the least bit ashamed— maybe the house of Auditore would even pride him! _'I truly fancy him…'_ the girl shyly smiled at herself in the mirror. _'And he fancies me!'_ The thought made her completely giddy.

* * *

Morning in the Auditore palazzo was semi-chaotic as usual. Giovanni had many clients to meet with and his secretary, Giulio, was hard at work scribbling a schedule to put order to the madness. His wife, Maria, was enjoying the peace of the garden out back, so that left Claudia attempting to tidy up inside when Ezio and Federico were summoned by their father.

"I have many memos that need to be delivered today," the Auditore patriarch informed his sons. "So many that I both of your quick feet to help me." The secretary appeared with two leather satchels within which several envelopes and scrolls were awaiting delivery. Ezio started to whine in protest but his father interrupted him. "Since I know neither of you are truly interested in the financial aspect of my business…" Here he lifted an eyebrow of censure. "…the least you can do is fulfill your duties as couriers. How does that sound?"

"Perfetto, Father," Federico grinned. "I'm sure I'll get all my deliveries made before this tartaruga."

Ezio scoffed in protest. "Ten fiorini says you don't!"

The older brother instantly accepted the bet by shaking Ezio's hand. Giovanni sighed and waved the two away. Once out in the street, Federico rummaged through his satchel to find the first recipient. "Hey, this is addressed to Duke Lorenzo! I wonder why Father needs to speak with him."

His brother shrugged again. "Perhaps he wishes to invest in some other businesses."

"Or some_one_…" Federico mused, knowing his mother was particularly fond of a budding artist and sculptor named Leonardo da Vinci. Ezio had yet to meet the man but today Maria was supposed to bring him to their home to hang some of his paintings. "Get going, tartaruga." Federico gave his sibling a push in the opposite direction. "Unless you want to hand those fiorini over right now."

Glaring, Ezio set off at a jog in the direction of the Arno with an envelope in hand. Federico quickly counted that he had fifteen pieces of mail to deliver, taking each address into consideration. They were spread out all over town, but several destinations could be found near the Vespucci mansion where Ezio's latest conquest, Cristina, lived under the not-so-vigilant eye of her father.

Ezio was not as efficient as his older brother and so found himself constantly back-tracking to places he had already been. After the third occurrence he sat down to catch his breath and examine the destinations he had left to visit. Smiling in preemptive victory, he realized the remainder of the letters were to be delivered to the same quarter, and with the imminent promise of ten more florins filling his wallet he took confident strides toward the market where several bakers sold fresh bread right out of their home windows.

Federico saved the note to Duke Lorenzo for last. He paused outside the grand palazzo of the Medici, somewhat apprehensive to bang on the door with a heavy bronze ring held in a lion's mouth. Just as he reached for it, though, the door suddenly swung open and he jumped back, earning a surprised glance from a finely dressed manservant.

He also became aware that many sets of heavy feet were falling upon the brick road behind him. Federico turned, his mouth immediately dropping open as a bizarre sight greeted his wide eyes.

Two groups of fully armored soldiers flanked a grand carriage pulled by four black-as-night horses with tasseled bridles. A sturdy man wearing a long navy-blue tunic adored with a stylized bird jumped down from the driver's seat and opened the door of the carriage, stepping back to fixate his gaze above Federico's head.

The person who emerged from the bowels of the stagecoach made him shudder slightly. By now several Florentine commoners had gathered around the group of strange men and were chattering in a mixture of awe, uncertainty and curiosity. The nobleman wore the same tunic as his driver but his upper body was covered with a wing-embellished breastplate and thick spaulders. His hair was a deep red color and close-shaven, suggesting he frequently wore a helm. He quirked an eyebrow at the statue of a boy who took notice of azure eyes set in sunken sockets. High cheekbones gave way to full lips set above a groomed goatee and a rather pointed chin.

"Welcome to Firenze, Altezza," the Medici servant bowed low, extending an arm for him to enter the palazzo. "Messer Lorenzo has been expecting you. Please come in."

As the powerful man ascended the steps, his dark fur cape trailing fine leather boots, the knights all turned as one toward the crowd, the clatter of their armor and weapons startling everyone. Federico remained petrified until the servant acknowledged his presence. "What business do you have here, young master?"

"Ah…" Federico hesitated, then produced the sealed envelope. "For Duke Lorenzo… from Ser Auditore."

The servant offered a slight bow. "Grazie. I'll see he receives this as soon as possible." With that, the door closed in his face and Federico nearly tripped down the steps. He gave the soldiers a wide berth, staring at them uneasily while wondering if the eyes beneath the plumed helms scrutinized his every movement. Once he reached the safety of the crowd, Federico broke into a brisk run that carried him toward his family home.

"Father!" he bellowed upon reaching the sanctity of the palazzo. "FATHER!"

It was Annetta the maid who answered his call. "What are you shouting about, Federico?" She squeaked in surprise when the boy took up her shoulders in a fierce grip.

"Where is my father?!" he demanded.

"M-Messer Giovanni has l-l-left to speak with the gonfaloniere!" she stuttered in shock.

"Cazzo!" Federico hissed. "Is anyone else here?!"

"Only Ezio!"

He released the woman in a somewhat defeated manner. Ezio was no help at all; surely he would be just as oblivious as to why there was a contingent of armored men and a foreign dignitary at the Medici household. Federico wracked his brain for answers but could recall no mention of a noble's arrival… unless Giovanni has absolutely no knowledge of such a meeting as well.

Making his way to the parlor, Federico slumped into a cozy armchair and stared into the crackling fire. It was dark now and their evening meal was being prepared, but Federico had no appetite despite traversing nearly the entire city within the course of a day. Annetta cautiously approached and cleared her throat. "Would you like a glass of wine, or some focaccia? It's fresh."

"Si…" the young man said more calmly. "I would, grazie. Chianti if we have any." He slowly rubbed his temples in order to massage away the muddled thoughts, but any peace he achieved didn't last long, for Ezio came stomping down the stairs, loudly proclaiming his triumph.

"Ah, _there_ you are, brother! I was wondering when you would return home! I waited for ten minutes outside and didn't see you anywhere, so I believe you owe me ten whole fiorini! Who's the tartaruga now?"

"It is still you," Federico managed to smirk. Nevertheless, he opened his wallet and surrendered the amount of their wager, which Ezio whistled at and dropped into his own coin pouch. Normally his gloating would goad Federico into a retaliatory argument, but for once he sat idly, saying nothing at all.

"What's wrong?" Ezio asked with some mild concern. "Are you mad that Mama doesn't want you to see that girl again?"

"What girl?"

"The one you met in the street yesterday," his brother smiled, "the one in the scarlet dress. I saw her, you know."

Federico lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah? What did you think?"

"She was pretty… for a puttana."

"She's not a whore…" the elder Auditore son refuted. "Even though she was dressed like one, I could tell her legs have opened for no man."

Ezio snorted. "How do you tell that? Let me know so I don't have to guess next time—"

"Next time you what?" Federico interrupted. "Jump in bed with some other girl? Cristina is the best one you've ever met, fratellino. You shouldn't think about giving up on her." He sighed as Annetta returned with a goblet of wine and some steaming, olive-filled focaccia bread and dipping oil. "I wish I could see 'Perdita' again."

Ezio swiped at the bread and managed to come away with a substantial chunk, which he chewed thoughtfully. "Why don't you go the brothels and look for her? If she works for one of them she's bound to be found sooner than later."

"Think of how our reputation would suffer if anyone saw me in the red light district again…" Federico sighed again. "I cannot do that to Father. I won't soil our name."

"Merda, then I'll go!" Ezio stated as he rose to his feet. The scar that had formed on his lip gave him a rather maniacal countenance. "Coming? You can stand outside."

"Va bene…" Federico acquiesced. "Only a minute in each, then we move on."

Ezio puffed out his chest. "It doesn't even take me that long, fra'." The lewd smirk could have jumped right off his face. Federico only sniggered his amusement.


	4. Chapter 3: Enchantress

**_Translations_**  
_Bordello: whore house_  
_Benvenuti: welcome_  
_Buona sera: good evening_  
_Tesoro: treasure_  
_Mi dispiace, fratello: my apologies, brother_  
_Per l'amore di Cristo: for the love of Christ_  
_Messer: sir_  
_Buona fortuna, signori: good luck, gentlemen_  
_Sorellina: little sister_  
_Noapte buna: good night (R)_  
_Anch'io: me too_  
_Molto terribile: very bad_  
_Bugiardo: liar_

* * *

Chapter Three

Enchantress

Federico stole along silently behind his brother while they slunk through the darkened streets of the city. He really didn't want anyone to witness them heading to the most popular brothels in town, and for that reason he wore a black cloak to shield his face and clothes. He was to wait outside in the shadows while Ezio attempted to summon the object of his affection: Perdita.

Except that obviously wasn't her real name. What if she had just made it up to placate his curiosity? Federico kept reminding his brother to use a physical description of the girl, not her name. "Si, si, I _know_…" Ezio waved off his latest concern. "Just wait here."

"And don't forget to whistle when you find her!" Federico nervously added. His brother made a face before stepping through the door of a bordello with a name that clearly didn't apply. It was rather run-down and smelled terrible from being situated near the Arno, so Federico prayed his unknown beauty would not be inside.

Ezio emerged after a minute. "No good, let's move on." He had similar luck at the next brothel, and the one after that. Since they were doing this on a whim Federico felt his confidence in the plan waning. "Aye, you can't give up now!" Ezio said with a hard pat on the back. "Look, we're at 'La Rosa Colta'. I bet you five fiorini she is here."

"No more betting…" Federico said in the most defeated tone. "You've already taken enough of my money today.

Furrowing his brow, Ezio opened the door to the house of indulgence. His nostrils were instantly assailed by thin clouds of incense and flowered potpourri. It was certainly the best-smelling bordello he'd ever been in! The women lounging around looked up at him from beneath long lashes, smiling coquettishly.

"Benvenuti…" an attractive woman in a red crushed velvet dress greeted. "What can we do for you, Messer…?"

"Ezio," he supplied. "And buona sera. I have come on behalf of one who is interested in a girl you have."

"How selfless of you!" Paola exclaimed, spreading her arms. "Which girl would that be?"

The intensity of all the pairs of eyes upon him suddenly deflated his self-esteem. "Her name is… Perdita."

All the women laughed, a cacophony of ridiculing, hurtful snickers that almost drove Ezio back out into the street. Paola quieted her courtesans with a hard look, then smiled at the boy. "Perdita is indeed here," she said in the seductive manner acquired from being in her line of work. "Would you like me to fetch her?"

"Si, grazie," Ezio nearly stammered. He managed to keep his head held high but was aware that the women in the room were all whispering presumably insulting things about him or this Perdita.

"Nobody comes here for her, tesoro," a dark-haired beauty explained from the nearest divano. "She's not a real woman like the rest of us."

'_Which is why Federico wants her…_' Ezio thought. "She is a virgin?"

"Ma certo," the woman tittered. "No man _ever_ comes here for her."

After a moment Paola returned from the upper level with an irritated expression and a sigh. "She will meet you outside, Messer Ezio, in but a minute. Please wait by the door."

With a curt nod Ezio returned to the torch-lit street where Federico leaned against the wall farther down. Upon hearing the door close his head jerked up. "Is she here?" he anxiously questioned.

"No," Ezio lied with a mischievous grin. "They've never heard of her. Mi dispiace, fratello." He prided himself on maintaining a sincere tone. Federico looked completely crushed, however, and his sibling was just about to laugh amiably and come clean when a slight voice halted their departure.

"Messer… Federico?"

He whirled around, the cloak flaring dramatically, and rushed to claim the girl's hands, who shied a little since she could not see his face. "Is it you?" she breathed with much apprehension.

"Si, mia columba… it is I, Federico Auditore!" He swept her fingers to his lips which solicited a tiny gasp.

"But what are you doing here, signore?" Perdita's voice wavered. "Why did you come all the way here at night to see me?"

Federico's eyes glittered despite the shadows encroaching upon them. "I had to, Perdita… I promised you, didn't I?"

"But, your madre…"

The boy scoffed. "I don't care what she thinks! Please, return with me to our palazzo. You look like you haven't eaten in weeks."

Ezio agreed— she was way too skinny. Her corset revealed no cleavage at all.

The girl faltered, wanting desperately to get to know Federico better but certain she would be punished for traipsing off in the middle of the night with a non-paying "customer". But being impulsive was in her nature, so Perdita smiled shyly and squeezed his hand, and the trio set off toward Palazzo Auditore.

Once home they were surprised to find only Annetta in the entire house, aside from Petruccio who was sleeping off a cold. "Where are Mother and Father and Claudia?" Ezio wanted to know. He started to think an empty house would turn into an open invitation for his infatuated brother to woo the girl into bed.

"Madonna took your sister to the theater," the maid explained, "and your father is still out."

"Well I hope he gets back soon…" Ezio muttered, turning to face his brother and the "dove". Annetta opened her mouth to berate him, but Federico held up a hand.

"She is only here for food," he smiled innocently. "See how thin she is?"

"Si…" the maid said, and offered their female guest a scrutinizing glare. Please sit, I'll bring her a plate."

Federico grinned and led the girl to the sofa positioned in front of the fireplace. Ezio claimed the armchair and kicked off his boots, mumbling curses at his very sore feet. Perdita gingerly sat down beside her suitor, keeping her hands on her lap while her eyes darted around the parlor that was radically different from her usual surroundings.

"Your home is very nice," she timidly spoke, flinching slightly as Federico yawned, stretched and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He was awfully tempted to carry the girl up to his room and make an honest woman out of her, especially knowing his parents would be out for some time.

"A lot different than I imagine yours to be, eh? Where is that, by the way?"

Perdita answered him with a coy smirk. "It is not important…"

"Yes it is," Federico refuted by scooting closer. "I want to know everything about you… staring with your name."

Her pale blue eyes held a surprising amount of strength as she tried to stare the boy down. "As I told you previously, I am Perdita."

"Per l'amore di Cristo…" Ezio groaned in exasperation, "Just tell him so he will stop asking!"

Annetta returned at that moment bearing a plate laden with the dinner no one had been home to enjoy. She pursed her lips at the thought of her wards soiling the furniture and almost asked them to move to the dining table, but she noticed the way Federico was getting closer to his lady friend and so decided to let them be.

"Grazie…" the girl practically whispered. Even Annetta caught her accent and did a double-take before returning to the kitchen.

"You speak Italiano fairly well," Ezio remarked, "but not well enough to convince any of us that you were born here. Now I too am curious to find out where you come from."

"Have some more grappa," Federico suggested, handing the girl a goblet full of the alcoholic beverage. He hoped it was loosen her tongue, the thought causing a broad grin to split his lips. But Perdita only took a sip before twirling some pasta around her fork. Unlike his brother, Federico had all the patience in the world to wait for a pretty girl to open up for him. Although he hadn't lain with one in a long while, he always chose quality over quantity. Compared to his previous conquests Perdita was an exquisite ruby… She just needed a bit of polishing.

The front door suddenly slammed, causing all three youths to jump at the unexpected sound. "Annetta!" the voice of the Auditore patriarch rang out. "I need wine!"

"Father!" Federico appeared before him almost instantly, ready to wrest any knowledge he might have regarding the nobleman at Lorenzo de' Medici's home. "We need to have a talk."

"About what, my son?" the middle-aged man inquired as he hung up his cloak. Federico followed him into the dining area.

"During my deliveries today I stopped by Duke Lorenzo's palazzo… and I saw someone rather interesting go inside."

"Oh? Who was it?" Giovanni gulped down nearly a quarter of a bottle of Chianti.

Federico remained steadfast. "I was hoping _you_ could tell me, Father… He was a foreigner."

The patriarch laughed. "I cannot tell you who might be visiting the Duke when I know not what he looks like, son."

"It was a man with red hair and a harsh face. He had blue eyes and wore a darker blue tunic beneath a golden breastplate. He was well-built, like a warrior, and came with many knights. His horses were pitch black, like steeds from Hell."

Giovanni regarded the description with an inquisitively raised eyebrow, honestly trying to put a name to an imagined face. "I am sorry Federico, I can't say I know whom it is you're referring to."

His eldest son grunted his frustration and spun on his heel to return to the parlor, preparing to introduce Perdita. The girl in the red dress stood before the fire, rubbing her exposed legs. Just as she glanced up a rather hard knock came at the door. Giovanni frowned in irritation but made his way to the front entry and pulled it open to face a pair of armored soldiers and a Florentine guard officer.

They wasted no time with formalities. "We're looking for a girl who we know to frequent this area. By the order of Duke Lorenzo we are authorized to search your home for any evidence that will lead to her detainment. What say you?"

Giovanni blinked at the outlandish claims. "The only authority one may assert over this household belongs to _me_," he brazenly replied, "and what makes you believe I would be harboring some street urchin?"

The guard faltered, glancing past the senior Auditore into the parlor area. His two sons were rigidly standing in front of the fire and from the kitchen Annetta stared nervously, but he did not spy a girl matching the description he was given. "I apologize for the inconvenience, messer." With that the officer indicated for the armored men to leave, but Giovanni held out his arm.

"What is the name of the girl you seek? I'll inform you if I hear of her whereabouts."

"Her name is Roxana Hunedora."

Giovanni suddenly heard the shattering of glass and turned with a cocked eyebrow toward his sons. Ezio knelt while cleaning up the remains of the plate and Annetta stood with a hand over her mouth. "Okay then," the elder man partially smirked. "Buona fortuna, signori." He closed the door in their faces and slowly approached the seated figure on the sofa.

"Federico…" the man said in a dangerously calm voice. "I believe you have not introduced me to your guest."

Federico himself was staring at Perdita in mild shock. Like a statue she remained fixated on the flickering fire, oblivious that Ezio was picking up the shards of the plate that had fallen from her limp fingers. "Perdita…?" he tried.

"Those men were looking for _you_, weren't they?" Giovanni stated as he moved to stand beside the arm of the sofa. The girl shot a gaze full of fear at him, and at once he could tell she was someone important… or dangerous. "Who _are_ you?"

* * *

In Giovanni's office encircled by three strong Auditore men, one of which was blockading the door, the girl in the red dress felt her heart pounding in an attempt to escape her chest. If she told them who she really was they would turn her in, sending her into a downward spiral from which there would be no escape.

Not even Federico could coax an answer from the girl, so he stood with one hand on the back of his father's chair, looking upon her through hardened eyes. As intimidating as they were, the girl remained tight-lipped. Her imminent fear of something they had no knowledge of was enough to lock her tongue in silence.

"Roxana Hunedora," Giovanni tried, repeating the moniker the officer had given, "is that not your name?"

She inhaled a deep breath full of attrition. "No… it is Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi. I come from Transylvania."

"What are you doing here?" the Auditore patriarch pressed. He had never heard of anyone traveling so far.

"My people went to war… so I journeyed to Constantinople. That was nine years ago. I have only lived here for one year, but I love this city very much. I came here so I could be free from the battles, free from turmoil."

Ezio's eyebrow arched sky high while his brother moved to lean over the desk. "Roxana…" Federico knew he had no hope of pronouncing the name in her native tongue. "Do you know why the guards are searching for you?"

"Da," she nodded. "Duke Lorenzo has ordered them to find me at the request of my uncle, Matthius, who met with him earlier this day."

"Do you know why he is here?" Giovanni pressed.

"That I do not know…" she answered with a sigh. She now had the courage to meet Federico's eyes once more, offering a tiny wry smile. "But if you wish to find out, we can go to him."

"That won't be necessary," the patriarch stated. "I shall have my men scour the city for information; they will certainly discover what this Matthius has come for."

"And in the meantime, you can stay here with us," Federico instantly added. "Can't she, Father? If she goes back to La Rosa Colta those soldiers will take her into custody."

Giovanni pondered his son's plea. His Assassin intuition was telling him there was a nefarious plot at work within their fair Firenze, one perhaps linked to the conspirators seeking to undo the work of the Medici, whom the House of Auditore loyally supported. The name of Matthius was unknown to him, but at least he now had one to add to his son's description.

Rubbing his temples wearily, Giovanni dismissed the three youths. They silently left his office and realized how late it was when Ezio ventured into the kitchen for one last drink where he bumped into Claudia and his mother who were just returning from the theater. His younger sister yawned greatly, mumbling a good night to Ezio before hiking up the stairs. Federico abruptly shoved the fugitive into his own room before Claudia could tell their mother. "Sleep well, sorellina," Federico smiled innocently.

Once he had secured the door behind him, Federico faced the blonde girl with a grin. "You don't mind sharing my room, do you?"

She faced him with her typically demure expression. "What if I do? Are you going to let me leave?"

"Probably not," the boy smirked, wetting his lips. "That doesn't mean we need to share the bed… I'll take the floor."

Satisfied he wasn't going to make a move, Ruxandra sat down on the plush mattress, sighing as she did so, and twisted her arms around to unfasten her corset. It gave way to a billowy chemise that erased her feminine silhouette, as did the skirt when she stepped out of it. At least it was short enough to provide a great view of her slender legs.

After Ruxandra had buried herself beneath the thick comforter Federico gathered the excess pillows he never used and compiled them in a nest beside the bed. He stood in front of his tall dresser and removed his doublet, undershirt, boots and trousers until he all he had on were hose. Ruxandra watched shyly as he splashed his face with clean water from a basin, then he opened a trunk at the end of the bed and covered himself with a winter blanket.

"What a day…" he said with a drawn-out sigh. "I never expected to get into so much trouble with you, mia columba."

His guest smiled at the phrase. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure how you would say it," Federico slightly laughed. "How do you say 'good night'?"

"Noapte bună," she supplied. A silence grew between them made all the more deafening by the lack of noise from the outside world. "I am cold."

"Anch'io…" Federico admitted. The shuffling he heard was all the invitation he needed. "Grazie, mia cara. We've only known each other for a day and you already trust me this much?" Even in the darkness he could make out her spritely features.

"Ma certo… Your father did not give me away to the soldiers, so if I can trust him I know I can trust you and your other family."

Oh, how Federico wanted to meet her lips in the shadow of his blankets. His assertive nature charged forward. "Would it offend you if I kissed you now?"

"It would if you were not good at it," Ruxandra said in a silky-smooth tone. She then tittered nervously and bit her lip, daring him to try.

Federico wondered if she actually had reservations and was just leading him on because it was her job. Working for over a year in a bordello would probably make any girl feel more amorous that she truly was; he certainly didn't want to force himself on her if she wasn't ready for anything intimate.

Huskily, he finally said "you be the judge…" and shifted forward to tentatively meet her very full, very soft lips that tasted slightly of grappa. At first a breath hitched in her throat, but then she slowly exhaled through her nose. Ruxandra decided the kiss felt quite pleasant after Federico pulled away, eyeing her with interest.

"Molto terribile…" the girl teasingly grinned.

"Bugiardo," he whispered back. "Let's do it again sometime soon, va bene?"

* * *

"My ancestors are all floozies!" I exclaimed after returning to the present. Rebecca gave me a confused half grin and Shaun just laughed.

"What makes you say that?" he chuckled.

I didn't answer him, just stumbled out of the machine's chair and rubbed my eyes. "And that counts as incest too, right?! We're related for Christ sake!"

Desmond approached with a cheeseburger in hand, something that sounded delicious right now. He regarded me like a crazy person. "What are you talking about, Dee?"

"You said our Third Crusade ancestors slept together, right?" I demanded, and he nodded slowly. "So that makes us related! But just now, I just saw my Renaissance relative _kiss_ Ezio's older brother! And she worked for a whore house!" That had to be the cherry on top because everyone achieved a look of consternation.

"Okay, but they didn't knock boots," Shaun finally deduced. "And since your bloodlines have been so diluted by that point in history, even if your ancestors did have a baby together it would be born perfectly normal."

"It's still gross," I shuddered, reaching for a bottle of water. Why did coming out of this Animus make me so ravenously _hungry_ instead of tired?

Rebecca decided to voice her input regarding the situation. "You're missing the most important point, Dee… You just remembered everything you saw."

I paused in awe. She was right! I remembered absolutely _everything_! "And I'm not speaking Romanian!" I added with glee.

"Your ancestor is Romanian?" Desmond casually inquired.

I nodded. "Her name is Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi. She went to Florence because there was a war in Transylvania or something." I waved it off as unimportant, wondering where to get one of those burgers. I knew I hadn't seen a McDonald's on the way into Monteriggioni.

"The Hunyadi are Hungarian nobles…" Shaun slowly expounded. "But I've never heard of this Ruxandra. Did she mention anything else about her family?"

I thought for a moment. "Her mother's name is Maria, and her grandmother is Erzsebet Zee-lah-gee." I know I butchered that name.

The Englishman appeared a bit stunned. "It's _Szilagyi_, and holy Christ on a bicycle, I do believe your ancestor is the daughter of Laszlo Hunyadi, who married Maria Garai in 1455. They must have had a baby before he died…" he muttered.

"Died?" I repeated after calming down a bit; the water really helped. "My relative's father is _dead_? That's awful!"

"Indeed, because he was beheaded by the king of Hungary at the time, Ladislaus the Fifth. It was believed that Laszlo murdered Ulrich of Celje after inviting him and the king to one of his castles, but no proof was ever found that Laszlo did it himself." Smirking ruefully, he continued. "The better part is that Ladislaus pardoned Hunyadi and made him captain-general of the entire kingdom. So Laszlo, completely trusting of the king, goes with him to Buda. But when he gets there he is taken into custody and charged with treason of trying to kill the king, and the _best_ part is that there was no judge or jury of peers! So off went his head on March sixteenth, 1457."

The silence grew and grew. "That is a fucking terrible story," Desmond dared speak while Rebecca and I remained positively mortified. "Why would you tell us that?"

Shaun shrugged, spreading his hands wide. "That's what happened in history, and that's who Dee is related to. Erzsebet, Laszlo's mother, lived in Transylvania as a devout Catholic, so I bet after he died Maria took her baby there."

It was one thing to hear the history from Shaun's mouth and another to actually live it through the Animus. It was pretty depressing to know that my ancestor, Ruxandra, only had two immediate family members when Ezio had five of them and a nice house, in addition to being rich. But he wasn't the one Ruxandra was interested in— it was the eldest brother, Federico. And I had just met them, so maybe they weren't even going to stay together. "Who's Matthius?" I suddenly wanted to know. "That name was mentioned, too."

Shaun pushed his glasses up his nose and folded his arms in the most arrogant manner possible. Rebecca had resumed her furious typing and I wondered if she or Lucy would prove victorious in a keystroke race. "I'm not going to tell you," was the haughty British reply. "You'll just have to wait and find out."

Desmond gulped down the last of his burger and smiled at me. "If I find out first, I'll tell you."

"Thanks. I'm glad _someone_ around here is cooperating."


	5. Chapter 4: Clandestine

**_Translations_**  
_Fratello: brother_  
_Bellissima: very beautiful_  
_Sfortunato: unfortunate_  
_Cappa: cape/cloak_  
_Magnifico: magnificent_  
_Firlama: cheeky bastard (T)_

* * *

Chapter Four

Clandestine

A plain cheeseburger on a whole grain bun never tasted so good. It turned out that in addition to having their own high-tech computer lab, the Assassins also had fairly standard, if technologically inept, living conditions. They had cots to sleep on, a couple Bunsen burners to heat water and food, and even a shower that ran off recycled water. I eyed the contraption with interest; my hair and skin were oilier than ever.

"How long have you been down here, in this cavern?" I inquired of Rebecca who seemed to enjoy answering my questions.

"About a week and a half, I'd say," the fawn-haired woman said after a moment. "We did have a base much closer to Abstergo's lab, but they found out and we had to make a quick getaway." Some kind of code I had no hope of discerning flashed on her computer monitor.

I chewed slowly, savoring the Angus beef patty and white cheddar cheese.

"How do you get supplies? Wouldn't the Templars catch on, follow the trail?"

Rebecca smiled a little slyly. "You'd be surprised at how vast our network is, Dee. I think you're underestimating our organization as one that lives below ground and never takes the attack to the face of the public."

"…Well, judging by _this_ example, that's exactly what I believe!" I couldn't help but giggle. A yawn escaped and it dawned on me that I had been awake for a many hours, since Johnathan broke me out of my cell. How long ago was that? I glanced around but didn't see a clock anywhere. "Rebecca… How long was I in the Animus?"

She looked thoughtful. "About four hours, I think. Maybe a little less. When you're in the mind of your ancestor, time seems to pass by at the same rate as here— you eat, sleep, and do everything you actually would, but the event rate of the past is accelerated because you technically already lived it, so you can see several days in the past, years even, and only spend a few hours with Baby."

"Speaking of Baby, why do you call it that? It's a machine, so why do you refer to it like a person?"

"I can answer that one," came Shaun's unexpected voice. I was too tired to jump, though, and looked at him through sinking eyelids. He stood right in front of me and leaned on a shelf unit. "Do you know what "animus" even means? It's Latin, the masculine form of "anima" which is the root for words like air, life force, and breath. "Animus" means spirit as well but carries connotations such as wrath and passion. Think of the word "animosity"— it means to carry a strong dislike or hatred, but the literal meaning is a _spiritual_ hatred. And that would be the most dangerous kind of all."

His words made sense, I just couldn't fully comprehend them in my sleep-deprived mind. "You use it for the greater good, though, so shouldn't it be called "Anima" or something more… happy-sounding?"

Shaun smiled a little as Rebecca turned in her chair. "Keep in mind that is was Abstergo who developed this thing, and they hate us."

Oh, right. _Now_ it made sense. "I get it…" I yawned again. "Sheesh! Where can I lie down and sleep for a few days?"

"Any of those cots," the Englishman offered. "They rarely get used; we're like robots who work day and night. You and Desmond will probably be out the most. If you need a blanket they're in that one slightly off-silver trunk."

"That narrows it down…" I mumbled as I shuffled over to the canvas beds. My feet suddenly felt like lead and I could feel the cheeseburger weighing me down. Right when I plopped into one I spied Lucy returning from her patrol. She had something clutched in her hand, but I was too tired to try and figure out what it was from so far away. Blackness claimed my vision as well as any fleece blanket.

I don't know when I woke up, but as the smog lifted from my eyes and I blinked several times to adjust to the dim lighting, I noticed there was someone seated in front of me. "Who's that?" I mumbled, dragging a hand across my face. The person came into focus just as he provided his name.

"It's me, Desmond," he said with an amused little smirk.

I groaned, sitting up to stare at him fully. "Were you watching me sleep or something?" It would be kind of creepy if he was.

"Nope, you conked out in my bed." The grin widened and I laughed.

"Did you put this blanket on me?" I noticed it when I had to extricate my feet from the tangled mess. His sheepish grin and slight blush were all the answer I needed. "Thanks… I guess it is a little chilly in here." With that I stood up and instantly noticed how sore my shoulders were; the cot was no substitute for my pillow top mattress back home.

Home…

I paused my usual morning stretch routine to think about that. Time seemed so distorted; I had no idea how long I'd been away from my studio apartment. Was there a pile of mail stacking up against my door? Were there tons of messages from my friends on my answering machine? Before heading down to San Diego for the renaissance faire, I had looked into adopting a cat from the local shelter. What if someone else had claimed the cute calico with green eyes?

"You okay?" Desmond's voice brought me back to reality, and I fixated him with a gaze full of attrition. He was temporarily taken aback before recognizing the hurt I conveyed. "I know what you're thinking—" he began.

"No you don't. You have no idea." The words were clipped.

"You think it's my fault that you're here right now, in this strange place with these strange people. It's exactly how I felt at first until I realized they need me to fulfill a higher purpose."

"And what would that be?" I glowered.

Desmond stood, looking down at me with a hint of pity. "I'm trying to prevent the enslavement of the human race. I need to find these Pieces of Eden and keep as many of them out of Templar hands as possible."

"And _I_ am trying to find some magical weapon called Soul Edge that supposedly attached itself to my ancestor during the Third Crusade and could now be anywhere in the word. Lucy said it turns people into monsters, but if it really did that why would I be looking at the life of a runaway gypsy in renaissance Italy? She's perfectly normal and by the looks of things the world is just dandy."

Desmond grunted in frustration and shook his head. "Our goal is the same, though. If Abstergo gets their hands on any holographic apples or mythical swords, there will no longer be such a thing as freedom. Maybe with the Pieces of Eden they'll enslave the weak-minded and with Soul Edge they'll just kill everyone strong enough to resist. Does that sound like a good world to you?"

"Of course not," I bit out. "But we're just two people who happen to have brushed these stupid ancient artifacts several hundred years ago and are now trying to find them in the modern world. They could be _anywhere_— it might even be faster to go spelunking than to have us sit in some machine and sift through even _more_ centuries of history to figure out what happened to them!"

"Are you two okay over there?" Rebecca's voice tentatively called out. The interruption was just what Desmond needed to scoff at me and turn on his heel, then he made a beeline for the stairs leading to the outside world.

"Where are you going?" Lucy asked, a bit astonished by his irritated aura. Desmond said nothing, so she just followed him. I allowed an angry yell to briefly fill the cavern before directing a seething glare toward the ground.

"Isn't there anyway to speed up this process?" I demanded of Rebecca. "I just want to get this over with and _go home!_"

Shaun dared approach me. "Unfortunately, no… It's either go slowly and make progress, or do nothing and twiddle our thumbs while we wait for Templar world domination."

I could have screamed at him; his composed accent was so annoying! But I knew what I needed to do to calm down, so I inhaled several deep breaths, exhaling through my mouth, and faced him once more. "I need you to find a song called 'Milieu' by Beats Antique… and play it as loud as you can."

Wordlessly and without question Shaun returned to his computer and clicked several times before I heard the familiar eerie carnival tune begin to fill the cavern. I always thought this song was a little ominous in nature, like you were walking through a fun house and seeing distorted images of yourself in all the different mirrors. But that was kind of how I felt when I got angry: unpredictable. I inherited my mother's raging temper and belly dance greatly helped keep it in check.

When I was dancing I closed my eyes; I didn't want to open them and be reminded of where I was. I just had to let the music surround me and move accordingly, like a puppet on a string. Sue me if that sounds sappy, but dancing gave me a clear-cut, irrefutable purpose: make my body become the music.

I felt my hips jutting out at angles they hadn't seen in months. My arms felt like sinewy serpents and I swore I captured the air within stretching, curling fingers. American tribal style is of course all about improvisation; just listen and dance, without inhibitions. Sometimes there was no time for choreography- which I taught at my studio as tribal fusion- which yielded the most spiritual dances.

The tempo change at two minutes and thirty seconds didn't catch me off-guard like it usually did. I felt myself slowing, relaxing, letting go of all my anger and frustration. By the time the last few piano notes rang out, I opened my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Shaun and Rebecca were staring in amazement. The newfound silence of the cavern was almost deafening, until my male acolyte said "I think I'm in love with you, Dee." I slightly bowed and he awkwardly returned the gesture which made me snicker. "Would you ladies excuse me for about twenty minutes?" He scuttled over to the steps and ascended them erratically, which just made me laugh even more.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Desmond inquired upon his return, his eyebrow arched sky high. I spied Lucy messing with some equipment.

As the two most innocent members of the party, mine and Rebecca's laughter probably sounded a little maniacal. "Apparently Shaun has never seen a belly dancing performance in person."

"Yeah, he's just _bursting_ with appreciation for the art." We cackled like evil hyenas and Desmond smiled nervously.

"Aww, did I miss Dee dancing? That sucks…" At those words Lucy jerked her head up to glare daggers at me, but I didn't notice them because I was having a grand time making fun of Shaun with his cohort. I planted a hand on Desmond's chest, grinning at him like an idiot, forgiving him for the situation that was completely out of our control. "So who feels like jumping five-hundred years back in time first— you or I?"

* * *

"Federico…" The boy instantly awoke to the singsong voice of his mother. "I know you are not in bed with that girl your father allowed to stay here last night…" Groggily he rolled over, hoping to see a nest of twisted golden hair on the other pillow, but that half of the bed was completely vacant. A disappointing fact, but one he wouldn't get in trouble for.

"See for yourself, Mother," he loudly yawned, stretching to reach all four corners of the mattress. His door opened and Maria's stern gaze surveyed the room before partially smiling her satisfaction. Federico planted his feet on the rather warm wooden floor, stretched some more, then trudged over to his armoire to dress himself for the day.

"I wonder what happened to Roxana…" he mused. Surely he hadn't just dreamt that she fell asleep in his bed, and the sweet kiss had definitely been real… right? Federico dried off his damp face before venturing downstairs.

"Ah, there you are fratello," Ezio smiled from inside the kitchen. "Father wishes to speak with us."

"Good, maybe he discovered some things about Roxana or that nobleman at Duke Lorenzo's."

In his office that was devoid of Giulio, Giovanni made his sons shut and lock the door and draw the curtains closed. He sat down at his desk with fingers laced beneath his chin and an austere countenance. For some reason the brothers knew the tense silence was building up to something important, so they said nothing, standing with hands clasped behind their backs.

"Federico, Ezio…" he somberly began, "do you know what it is I do for a living?"

"You are a banker, Father," Ezio provided. His brother knew it was not so simple an answer and held his tongue.

"So it would seem," Giovanni enigmatically smiled. "I must admit I have deceived you, my sons. Although I call this my home and conduct a legitimate business out of it, my true allegiance lies with a secret order that has been trying to maintain peace in this city and across the globe… but with the arrival of the man you saw yesterday," he nodded to Federico, "that peace has been compromised."

His sons glanced at each other, unsure of exactly what he was telling them. "The man currently residing in Palazzo Medici is none other than Matthius Corvinus, the King of the Hungarian Empire. He has come to our city to find Roxana, his niece, whom he believes will lead him to an old family heirloom that she received before fleeing to Constantinopoli."

Federico gasped, unbelieving. Ruxandra was Hungarian nobility?! "Where is she? Every guard in the city will be searching for her!"

A slight giggle emanated from the shadows behind Giovanni's desk and a black-cloaked figure emerged. The hood drew back to reveal Ruxandra's sly grin. "I am not as foolish as you believe, Federico Auditore," she said with a wink that conveyed her knowledge of his mother's morning inspection. The boy relaxed with a sigh, but Ezio shook his head.

"So what do we do, Father? The soldiers from last night said they knew she had been seen in this area, so they will likely come back to search our palazzo by force. The clear solution is to send her back to her homeland."

Giovanni held up his hand. "Do not be so hasty, my son. It has been determined by my order that Roxana will indeed return to her country of Transylvania, but she will need trusted guards to protect her. And someone will need to return to Firenze with the artifact in question, as it will be safest in our care."

Federico already knew what his father would ask of them; he had a knack for quickly discerning cryptic words. But Ezio wasn't as astute. "What are you saying, Father? What is this 'order' that you work for?" His expression only grew more befuddled when Giovanni rose from his chair and maneuvered something on the hearth that suddenly revealed a small alcove. Inside was a chest which he rummaged through; the brothers caught a glimpse of white before he closed the lid and faced them once more with an object in hand.

"This is our instrument of justice," the wizened man explained fondly. "I received it upon my initiation into the Order, but that was many years ago and it has broken since then. I have my own, so your task, my sons, is to find someone in this city who can repair it, for it will be your tool for defending Roxana as you accompany her to her homeland."

Federico accepted the mission in stoic silence, but Ezio was agape with confusion. "Father!" he erupted after a moment, "What are you… How can you… How do we…?!"

"Please, Ser Ezio…" Ruxandra softly addressed as she approached him. "I need your help. Yours and Federico's… I am not strong enough to wander so far on my own. My uncle will have spies searching for me from here to Transylvania, and we must return to my mother and grandmother undetected." Pure blue eyes stared imploringly into his earthen ones, and Ezio held his breath. "Will you help me?"

The entire office was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. "Va bene…" Ezio finally sighed in acquiescence. "I will go."

His father clapped his hands. "Perfetto! Now, my boys, take this weapon to the artist whom your mother is well acquainted with. You will receive instruction once there. Go quickly and stay away from the guards! Keep the girl in your sight at all times." His gaze turned directly to Federico. "Your real training begins now, my son."

It only took about a minute for Ezio and his older brother to surround themselves with deep red cloaks before exiting Palazzo Auditore with Ruxandra secured between them. It was only another minute before Ezio sighed in frustration. "Where are we going?"

"To the workshop of Leonardo da' Vinci," Federico supplied. "He is not only a great artist but an inventor as well. I am certain he will be able to repair this weapon."

"How do you know so much about this Leonardo?"

Federico scoffed while shouldering past a group of people chatting outside a gallery. "I met him plenty of times with our madre. You should consider spending more time with our family, fra', and less in the bordellos."

"Mother and Claudia are not nearly as entertaining…" Ezio muttered, and the trio pushed onward. The streets were unusually crowded today so Federico felt like he was leading them through a maze, but eventually they arrived outside a modest building with a wide open door. Federico threw out his arm to stop his allies just as two men hefted a large framed painting over the threshold.

"Careful with that!" called the voice of someone within. Federico cautiously peered inside and spied the fair-haired artist shaking his head disapprovingly. He knocked twice on the frame to gain the man's attention. "Oh! Federico Auditore! I have not seen you in a few weeks. What brings you to my studio?"

"First, may we three enter?

"Si, si! Come in, please!" Leonardo ushered in the shadowed figures, closing the door behind them. He had his hands clasped together expectantly. "How can I be of assistance today?"

They synchronized the removal of their hoods, and Leonardo gasped when his eyes fell upon the girl. "Bellissima! Who is this fine lady you bring?" He didn't wait for an answer and pushed right past Ezio to circle the girl, who held a nervous finger to her lips.

Federico smirked a little. "This is Roxana Hunedora. She came here from Transylvania one year ago, and now Ezio and I are escorting her home."

Leonardo trained his eyes on the younger Auditore. "I don't believe we have met; it is always your brother who comes to aid Madonna Maria." He held out a hand for Ezio to shake, which he grasped firmly. Although a bit different, Leonardo was still a respectable gentleman and an extraordinarily talented artist.

"Can I interest you in some wine? Some bread and cheese, perhaps? Sit, relax, look around! What can I do for you?" He started gathering strewn pieces of paper and arranging long rolls of canvas. "I apologize for the mess; my servants are picking up more paint from the supply shop or they would be cleaning the place."

Federico chuckled. "It is all right, Leonardo. We have actually come bearing some work for you, if you're interested…"

"Of course!" the finely-dressed man beamed. "What do you require?" At that Federico held out the bracer and broken blade that was supposed to attach to it. Leonardo made a sound of approval and gently carried the contraption to his workbench. "These mechanics are fascinating," he murmured, "much more advanced than anything I have seen before. It is perhaps too complex… Are there any schematics of this device?" he inquired.

Federico regretfully shook his head. "None that I know of."

"Sfortunato…" the artist sighed, fondling the bracer. "Wait… what is this?" He produced a crumpled piece of paper that made his guests scurry over, and as he unfolded and smoothed it they breathed in awe. On the paper in age-worn ink was a blueprint of the weapon!

"Will this tell you how to fix it?" Ezio asked.

"I imagine so! But there is a problem— this language is unlike any I know." He moved a candle closer to the parchment, humming with interest. "Yet, some of these markings resemble ancient Arabic… Give me just a moment!" He scurried over to a bookshelf where his finger alighted upon a worn leather tome, which he brought back to the table and thumbed through. "Ah, as I thought… This page is encoded, but I believe I can decipher it!" He glanced up with a smile. "Don't feel as if you need to waste time here. Carry on with your day!"

Ezio grinned sheepishly. "Ehh, that's the thing… Roxana is wanted by the city guard. We need to keep her out of sight—"

"And our father said we would receive further instruction once we came to you," his brother finished. Ruxandra had busied herself by perusing all the fascinating sculptures and mechanical trinkets that lay about. She assumed the pose of an unfinished bare-breasted clay statue, which made the boy chuckle.

Leonardo nodded slowly. "I see. I have never given the guards a reason why I might be harboring a fugitive, so she should be safe here. What did you say her name was?"

"Ruxandra," the girl offered from across the room. "Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi."

"It sounds prettier when you say it." The artist's smooth reply earned a blush and shy smile. The Auditore brothers sighed, knowing they would be bored out of their minds. _'I wonder if we can risk going to the marketplace…' _Ezio wondered, nudging his brother to get his attention.

"I cannot stay cooped up in here. I'm going outside for a bit." Leonardo already seemed to be off in his own world.

"Very well, fratellino… But be careful. You know who to watch out for." Ezio waved off the remark as he secured the cappa about his shoulders before exiting the cool building. It was completely silent except for the scratching of Leonardo's pen, and watching Ruxandra wander around aimlessly gave him some inspiration.

It didn't take long for Federico to procure a mostly blank sketchbook and stick of charcoal. He situated himself on the divano, stretching his feet out to the other end. He was no great artist to be sure, but he had the skill to at least sketch a decent portrait of the girl. She drifted listlessly around the shop, running thin, tiny fingers over everything that wasn't out of reach. She was still wearing the red corset and skirt, and the ensemble stood out in such a shadowed place.

_'She's like a rose amongst the stonework…'_ Federico mused. In such darkness it was impossible not to be drawn to her pale skin and fair hair, and her petite yet graceful frame made it seem as if she were a sprite flitting about. Ruxandra's first glances were always a bit startled, as though she was surprised to find someone staring at her, but then she turned coy or even impish depending on the situation.

So Federico drew her with a set of gossamer wings, lightly skimming the paper with the stick of dark charcoal. They were shaped like a lunar moth's, long and tapered, to enhance her slender build. Just as he finished blowing away some dust a voice cleared itself behind him, making him jump slightly.

"I believe it is ready. Come, try it on." Leonardo held his breath while he affixed the bracer to his guest's forearm, making some last minute adjustments. He finally stood back to admire the contraption.

"How does it work?" Federico questioned, examining the metal sheath beneath the worn leather bracer. The metal was embossed with many symbols he did not recognize, but an odd sensation, a feeling of empowerment, made him tingle.

"The loop around your little finger… flex it."

When Federico did so he jumped, for the space in front of his hand was stabbed by the very sharp blade hidden within the sheath. It was nearly a full hand-length, plenty long enough to sink into an adversary's flesh and deliver a fatal blow. "Magnifico…" the young man breathed. "You are truly a genius, Leonardo."

Just then a loud knock resounded from a back room that startled Ruxandra into dropping a ball of clay. With a furrowed brow Leonardo disappeared into the storage room that connected to an alley, but his exclamation quickly drew Federico. "This must be for you," the artist remarked of a pile of weapons situated on the step.

It was good timing on Ezio's part to return when his brother brought their supplies inside. "Wow!" he grinned, "Is this all for us?" He began sifting through the stash of weapons to find one he liked, but Federico was more interested in the note attached to a fine rapier.

_Federico and Ezio Auditore,_

_These weapons will ensure the proper protection of the girl. Bring them all if you like; you will most certainly find use for them along your journey. The world outside Firenze and beyond Venezia is dangerous and unforgiving, so you must learn to act accordingly. The device bestowed by your father shall help you accomplish your goal; do not be afraid of the Hidden Blade. Follow Ruxandra to Constantinople— there you will meet one of our contacts and someone she trusts. Travel swiftly with an eye on your back… always. Do not trust men of the cross._

_La Volpe_

"La Volpe?" Federico repeated aloud. "I wonder who that is."

"A friend of our father's, obviously," Ezio smirked. He withdrew a keen long sword from its sheath, eying the blade for balance. It matched his character well, but Federico preferred the fine art of fencing, which his father had been teaching him for several years now. The thin rapier blade was perfect for penetrating weaknesses in enemy armor that less agile weapons had no hope of discerning.

Ruxandra even picked up a small stiletto and stuck it in her bodice. "What are you going to do with that?" Ezio sniggered.

She eyed him with displeasure. "I traveled a long way on my own before, and I did not make it without a dagger to fend off men who would have enslaved me. I have been in the world— you have not. So believe me when I say I know how to survive."

"Well then, it sounds like you don't even need our help!" the younger Auditore shrugged. "Since you are so used to doing everything on your own already, what are we wasting time here for?" He made to exit the studio, earning a hard glare from the girl and his brother. "Come, brother! Let us return to our fine lifestyle." He already had one foot out the door when Federico stopped him.

"Wait, Ezio…" his imploring voice spoke, "Remember what Father said. Remember what you said to Roxana in his office. We are just about ready to set off, and you want to leave? If you didn't want any part of this task then you should have said so."

Ezio turned from the doorway with a wicked sneer on his lips. "I was just making sure you really wanted my help!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the girl who scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Firlama…" she muttered, then in a louder tone, "Are you prepared to leave Florence? I must first go to Constantinople to gather some personal things. You have never been there, I am certain, but it is a lovely city." Leonardo looked intrigued.

"How are we getting there?" Ezio asked the obvious. "We don't have horses."

"We shall steal some," Federico nodded resolutely. "It will take much too long to travel on foot. We can ride to Venezia, gather everything we need, then head for Constantinopoli." He glanced at their female ward. "Does that sound like an acceptable plan?"

"Da," she smiled, "let us go as soon as you are able."

* * *

It was Ezio's task to stalk the stables and procure a pair of horses without the guards noticing. He first created a small distraction in the street by pretending to be a beggar and bumping into a haughty nobleman. Their argument escalated to shouts that attracted the guard's attention, and when they threatened to throw the man in jail for a night Ezio slunk away to the unguarded stables. The horses clip-clopped down the stone road as he quickly made his way to the northeast gate.

"Here we are," he whispered confidently, "the finest steeds in Firenze." Wordlessly Federico swung into the saddle before pulling Ruxandra up to sit behind him. Ezio copied the motion and muttered how uncomfortable the ride would make him, but then he spurred his mount forward to lead the charge. "To Venezia!" he nearly shouted.

They traveled swiftly beneath the blanket of the night, crossing the countryside that would have seemed very beautiful during the day but was rather ominous in darkness. At every turn in the road Federico swore there would be someone waiting for them, someone they would have to use their swords to fend off, but there was no one. The horses galloped hard until reaching the decrepit city of Forli, then they slowed to jogs, then walks as they traversed the path to Venice.

It was very quiet in the blush of dawn. The water city of Venice loomed before them like a vast ship, of which there were many in the harbor as well as hundreds of long boats called gondolas. "How can it be so busy so early?" Ezio yawned, trotting his horse toward the gate on dry land. There were a few armored men stationed there, but they looked immensely tired. The travelers dismounted to approach them cautiously.

"Welcome to Venezia," the first guard, a rather portly fellow, greeted. "May I see your passes?"

"Passes?" the brothers repeated, glancing at each other. "We do not have passes."

The guard's kind expression abruptly melted away. "Oh. Then we have a problem. Or rather _you_ have a problem because no one is allowed to enter the city without a pass."

"Of all the useless things…" Ezio muttered, walking away with his hands on his hips. The guard tried to peer beneath their dark hoods so Ruxandra removed hers for inspection. "Please, Messer, is there not something else that would let us in?" She reached into the mysterious pouch at her side, which Federico had been eyeing but didn't question, to produce a glittering ruby brooch. The fat man's eyes bulged in their sockets at the size of the gem, and Federico wondered how she had acquired it as well.

"You would give me this… just to enter the city?" his voice wavered.

"Si Messer," Ruxandra smiled. That was all the charm she needed. The guard snatched it from her hand, glancing to make sure his colleague hadn't seen, and waved the trio in. There were few people milling about but no one took notice of the strangers leaving their horses at the hitching post.

They huddled together in a deserted back alley. "All right, we made it," Federico spoke quietly, "now we are but one step away from beginning our mission. We will need medical supplies in case of an accident, and food and water of course…"

"I think we should change our clothes," Ezio offered. "I've been wearing this shirt for three days now." His eyes shifted to the girl. "And you stand out too much in that red dress."

"I will find us some new garments," Ruxandra offered. "We should meet back here when everything is gotten."

Federico nodded. "Then I will gather enough food for the journey. How long will it take, do you think?"

"One week," the girl said. "It took me one week to go from Constantinople to Florence by means of a caravan." She peered around the edge of the brick building and narrowed her eyes upon a patrol of marching guards. "We should remain unseen in this city, in case my uncle has spies here."

"Don't you mean the King of Hungary?" Ezio smirked. His words made the girl cringe. "Doesn't that make you a lady of Hungary?"

"It would if I lived there," Ruxandra coldly replied, "but my home is in Transylvania. The Three Nations still fight for their independence from the King and the Ottomans, and they will die fighting before allowing tyranny to rule. My mother and grandmother are protected by the mountains, and we will be as well once we are there. So, let us not waste any more time."

With that she darted into the street, blending effortlessly into the growing crowd. "Wait!" Federico called out, but he was too late. With a sigh he said to his brother "meet me back here in an hour. No more."

"Aye fratello," Ezio nodded as he concealed his visage once more. They left the alley together, heading in separate directions to locate an apothecary and the market.

After some time Federico returned to their secluded gathering place with a large sack of bread and a basket of fresh fruits and vegetables. They were a bit of a commodity in the city for most business was centered on art, architecture, clothing and tourism. It was a good thing Federico stayed hidden in his cappa because the Venetians had a knack for talking people from other cities into spending their money on overpriced souvenirs and gondola rides.

He glanced at the sun; it had to be about nine in the morning now, so it would be interesting to see how much ground they could cover in one day. Ezio appeared at the other end of the alley and jogged to show his brother the bag full of bandages and antiseptic he had received a good deal on because the dottore's daughter thought he was attractive. "Only you," Federico chuckled.

Finally Ruxandra returned to their meeting place. Federico frowned when he noticed she was carrying absolutely nothing, and didn't even have her hood up. "Didn't you find any new clothes for us?"

"Of course I did," she smiled mischievously.

"Where are they?" the boy tried again.

Her lips broadened and she indicated for the boys to follow her. Through the mass of people they went, encroaching upon the harbor thriving with activity. There was one ship that was styled differently than the rest and flew an Ottoman flag, but it was onto this ship that the girl marched. The brothers offered confused looks at the base of the gangplank.

"We shall sail our way to Constantinople!" Ruxandra jovially exclaimed. "There is already a room prepared for us!"

Incredulous, Ezio shook his head. "How did you manage such a feat? The cost to travel on a vessel such as this would be immense!"

"A lady never reveals her secrets. Now come aboard!" She spun out of view and the brothers could only shrug before happily arriving on deck. The ship would certainly cut their travel time in half at least, but Federico couldn't help but wonder if there were delicate politics involved in such an arrangement. Ruxandra must have traded her entire pouch of baubles for the captain to allow three complete strangers on his boat. It was known that Venice had tentative trade agreements with the Ottomans, but things could turn bitter in the blink of an eye.

The captain was indeed an Ottoman Turk, but his crew was comprised of men from all over the land— Venice, Ancona, Albania, Greece, even Crimea near the Azov Sea. It was a small blessing that Ruxandra could converse with such diverse people; they spoke Turkish which she had become fluent in over the nine years she spent living in Constantinople. Their room was a lavish one that conveniently held a set of bunk beds and one larger bed, two armoires and several storage trunks. Federico made a sound of understanding when he spied all-new garments laid out across the wide mattress.

"I tried to find things that would help you blend in," the girl explained. "Light cotton trousers, silk shirts, leather vests and boots… These things will help you hide in plain sight. When you and Ezio have finished dressing, find me and I will show you how to wrap a turban."

"Can't you help me put on _all_ these clothes?" Federico suggestively smirked.

The girl made a face that said she was not amused. "This is not a time for fun and games, Ser Federico. Our only focus should be on retrieving the artifact my uncle seeks."

The boy folded his arms. "So you know what it is then?"

"Ma certo," the Ruxandra slyly grinned. "I am the one that hid it from him."


	6. Chapter 5: Trust

**_Translations_**  
_Molto bene: very good  
Vino: wine  
Suphanallah: good god (T)_

* * *

Chapter Five

Trust

Ruxandra paced their cabin thoughtfully, wearing an expression that conveyed her mastery over the entire situation. It was completely her choice what she told Federico who could only recline on the bed in stoic silence. It wasn't like him to let a woman get under his skin, but the way the girl flaunted her knowledge was somewhat irritating.

"What are you hiding from me, from us? I thought this was just a simple matter of assisting my father with something important, but if you are leading my brother and I into danger…" He shook his head. "I cannot allow you to do that."

She faced him with a flourish. "You do not know anything about me, Federico Auditore, yet you approach me in the middle of the street and call me the most ravishing lady of Florence. Those were your exact words, as I recall," the girl winked. "So what would compel you to undergo a quest that you have no knowledge of?"

Federico blushed as he felt the words berating him, knowing exactly why he had said yes to escorting her: Ruxandra was beautiful, and he couldn't help himself. She was a damsel in distress and he wanted to be her knight in shining armor. But he started to think that perhaps she didn't really need one.

"I am who I say I am," she continued in a calm manner. "I am Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi, born in Transylvania to my mother, Maria, and we live with my father's mother, my Grandmother Erzsebet."

"Your father?" Federico questioned. "You never mentioned him before."

Her visage steeled. "That is because he is dead. He was murdered by the one whom my uncle inherited his position from. His name is… was… Laszlo. My mother loved him very much even though their marriage was arranged. She told me many stories about him, how he loved his country and his family equally and did everything in his power to protect us." There was jealousy in her eyes when she focused on Federico again. "But still he was killed… for reasons none of us can fathom."

"You are right…" the boy admitted, "I do not know what it is like to lose family. I cannot imagine how you must have suffered. But you must tell me what it is your uncle wants… Why did he come all the way to Firenze to find _you_?"

Ruxandra sighed before sitting down beside him, splaying his fingers so they both could see. "I inherited a piece of jewelry from my father. My mother kept it safe until the day of the revolution, when everyone took up arms against the king. I was almost ten years old; she gave it to me and told me to hide, but instead I left my country." An almost dream-like expression claimed her visage, and her voice became paper thin. "It was not a normal ring… I sensed something about it that frightened me, and I could only wonder why my father would leave me such an heirloom. I was mad at him, mad at my mother, angry that our neighbors would disrupt the peace of the only family I had ever known. So what could I do but run away from it all?"

Federico fitted the puzzle pieces together and slowly lowered his hand to firmly grip the smaller one in his lap. "So your uncle, Matthius, wants the ring…" he finalized. "He must know something about it that you do not."

"Yes…" Ruxandra whispered. "And I fear what it is that he knows." She turned to face him fully. "When we get to Hunyadi Castle, you and Ezio must return the ring as swiftly as you are able to your father. The people he works with… they will know what to do with it."

Federico's smile was a mixture of skepticism and guile. "Yet another thing that you keep from me…" He traced her jaw line with one finger before planting it atop her lips. "There really shouldn't be any secrets between the two of us."

The girl bit her lip as his face drew nearer. "Federico, now is not the time for… kissing."

"What are you talking about?" he refuted with a lurid smirk. "This is the perfect time! Ezio is drowning himself in wine, my mother is not around to walk in on us, and we are all alone in this little room on the open sea. We'll be sharing it for a few days, in fact, so why don't I do as you said and… get to know you better?" He leaned in again but Ruxandra went the opposite direction.

"Oh no, Federico Auditore… You believe you can charm another kiss from me so easily?"

He followed her motion of backwards travel until she rested on elbows and Federico loomed over her. "The first time it was you who said you would be offended by a bad kiss… but it wasn't molto terribile, was it?"

Ruxandra wondered if the boy could feel her heart beating through her chest. It was frantically pumping blood into her bright pink cheeks that grew warmer when it occurred to her that it might not be entirely unpleasant to kiss Federico again… it might even be molto _bene_. "Why?" her voice squeaked out. "Why do you…?"

Federico's smile broadened. "Why do I want to kiss you?"

"S-si…"

"Because it feels good, mia cara. You make my heart beat like thunder." He patted his chest, then felt her mouth with his thumb. "You sent a bolt of lightning through my lips that night, and I have not forgotten the feeling. I long for that sensation again, mia columba…"

"D-don't you 'mia columba' me…" Ruxandra stammered. "We need to focus on our duty."

Federico rolled his eyes. "What duty do we have right at this very moment?" He lifted a suggestive eyebrow. "I can only think of one thing."

Her eyes contained a whirlpool of emotions. They both knew she wasn't strong enough to push him away, yet Federico's hands remained pressed into the comforter on either side of the girl. She could extract herself from the intensity of his amorous gaze if she really wanted to although she knew the physical attraction was mutual. She had never been in a situation like this before or even thought about it, so what should she do?

Thankfully it was Ezio who provided the answer. He barged through the door with a full bottle of wine in hand that sloshed dark liquid onto the floor and his eyesight was impeded by a yellow and green turban. "Ey you two, whaddya doin' in here al-lone?"

Federico regretfully stood up to face his brother with a scowl. "You're very drunk," he stated blandly.

Ezio beamed with pride. "Righchoo are! This vintage is… magnifico! Have some!" He thrust the bottle into his brother's chest who yanked it from his grip. Not deterred in the least, Ezio stepped back a few paces and gesticulated wildly. "Whaddya think? D' I look like an Ottoman?"

"No, you look like an idiota," Federico frowned. "You're not getting this bottle back."

Ezio looked like he had been stabbed in the heart. "Why na, fra'? I was jus' havin' some fun b'fore we got to Con-stan-ti-no-po-li." He had to concentrate very hard to pronounce their destination. "Gimme the vino an' I'll leave ya ta mesh around with Roxana."

Federico just about smacked the cocky grin from his brother's face. Instead he exited their room to approach the bow of the ship and tossed the bottle of wine into the waves, earning a loud protest from Ezio. "Why'd ya do that?!" he shouted.

"Because you're making a fool of yourself, fratellino. We are guests on this vessel and we don't need to soil the image of our people. Have some common sense."

Ezio scoffed loudly, nearly spitting in Federico's face. "_Yer_ the one tryin'na stick it in Roxana. _You_ have some common sense." His look of defiance was lessened by droopy eyes and the way he wobbled precariously.

"Yes, I like her," Federico returned through crossed arms. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to do something stupid like get her naked while we have an important task to focus on! Do you think Father's order would approve of putting our mission on hold so I could mess around with her? No! We must first get to the ring her uncle seeks, then we can relax and celebrate. So go stick your head in a cold bucket of water and then get some sleep."

Ezio looked prepared to fire off another come-back, but he suddenly spun around to lean over the railing and emptied the contents of his stomach into the sea. There was a greenish pallor on his face and he looked about ready to collapse, so Federico hefted one leaden arm over his shoulder and walked his brother back to their quarters. Unsurprisingly, Ruxandra was nowhere to be seen.

"Thanks for that…" Federico muttered with some contempt. "I guess we'll both go to bed early."

* * *

He achieved a sort of partial sleep due to the calm rocking motion of the ship and Ezio's obnoxious guttural snoring. A tiny sound infiltrated his slumber, but he lay on the bottom bunk for some time trying to discern its contents. The hoots and whistles rose from below deck along with clapping that seemed to accompany a jaunty tune comprised of various instruments, none of which he could name.

Curiosity got the better of him. Federico threw on one of the thin cotton shirts stowed in the armoire before slipping out into the chilly night air. Even with his skin guarded the sea breeze was harsh enough to bite, so he quickly descended to the galley.

It was here from which the chorus of instruments sang out, but it was on the stairs that he stopped to watch the festivities taking place, unable to prevent a grin from splitting his lips. It was almost an amusing sight to see Ruxandra frolicking across the tops of two tables that had been shoved together as a makeshift stage; _almost_ amusing because he realized there was more to her performance than random movements.

Federico was rather taken with her new attire that had to be a reflection of her native wear. Gone were the confining red corset and hiked-up skirt. In their place was a crop top with long dagged sleeves and a floor-length skirt of several tiers that expanded to a wide circle when she spun. A velvet sash tied round her waist was adorned with rows of metallic trinkets that drew the eye and added pleasant sound to sensual hip movements. Her hair was gathered in a pretty braid and several dangling ornaments were bound to the pale pink scarf atop her head.

Ruxandra looked much more feminine this way, the young man decided. Apparently all the sailors thought so too because each time she assumed a provocative pose in response to the music they cheered bawdily, slamming wine bottles and tankards of mead into the worn wooden tables. Nothing the men said, no matter how vulgar, erased the smile from Ruxandra's face; it was as though she only heard the music and nothing else. Either that or she just didn't care, but apathy didn't fit with the typically demure yet spritely personality Federico knew she possessed. The girl could charm treasure from a dragon.

'_I better leave before someone notices me…'_ the young man thought.

Too late.

"How nice of you to join us, lad!" a deep voice boomed. It was accompanied by a pair of enormous hands that plucked Federico off the stairs and deposited him into the spotlight with Ruxandra, who smiled at his sudden appearance. The music stilled, then, and Federico made a face. Then a few flute notes were released into the air, and the stringed instruments answered, and the galley became filled with the baritone voice of their captain.

He sang words in a language Federico did not recognize, one full of soft consonants and vowels. As words came tumbling from his mouth surrounded by a bushy beard the drums interjected to drown the large space in a celebratory beat. Federico laughed out loud when everyone, including Ruxandra, began to dance.

They all sang along to the tune accented by thunderous footsteps and clapping. Federico watched the girl's bare feet for a moment before catching onto the rhythm that repeated itself with slight variation. She finally took up his hands and they spun round and round in a tight circle, kicking up their heels and grinning like fools. "What are we doing?" Federico had to shout above the lewd symphony.

"This is a song and dance from my country!" Ruxandra shouted back. "A jig of the Romani!"

"Oh! It sure is lively!"

"Ma certo! There is always something to celebrate!" Just as she finished saying this the song ended with a great flourish and a deafening cheer arose from the men who clanked their drinks together, nearly submerging their feet in alcohol. The captain said something to Ruxandra that she laughed at before hopping down from the tables to ascend the stairs. "Coming to bed?" she inquired of Federico.

Although completely innocent, those three words made him shiver with delight. He couldn't help but envision snuggling up to the girl beneath fine silk sheets and exuding a sigh of contentment before glancing over at the pram opposite their nightstand…

Federico rapidly blinked that thought away as his cheeks burned red with embarrassment. He was only just becoming properly acquainted with Ruxandra, so how could he even dream of having babies with her? There were important steps to be taken before such milestones in life, preferably friendship, courting and marriage.

A breath of the Adriatic Sea helped blow such thoughts away. He and Ruxandra walked arm in arm to their cabin and Federico held the door open for her. As soon as she stepped inside she wrinkled her nose. "Suphanallah, Ezio sounds and smells like a beast!"

"He had a bit too much to drink, which I am certain I can thank the crew for." Removing the shirt to stow it once more, Federico settled into the bottom bunk. However long he had slept had been enough because now he was wide awake.

"You do not want the big bed?" the girl questioned with her head to one side.

"You take it. I already fell asleep here once. And I need to keep an eye on Ezio in case he rolls off the edge." Muscled arms crossed beneath his head.

Silence for a moment. "Would you like to share it with me?"

Federico released an irritated sigh. "Roxana, don't use that voice on me."

"What voice?"

"The one you used to draw men in and send them racing to La Rosa Colta. You are being coy and you know it. You're going to get yourself in trouble that way."

She scoffed ever so slightly. "My words never placed me in trouble before."

"Well you'd better stop or they just might get you in trouble with _me_."

Now she laughed out loud. "Federico Auditore, you are not that kind of man. You would never lay an unwanted finger upon me."

"How do you know?" he retorted. "I've had my way with plenty of women in Firenze."

"We are not in Firenze any longer," the girl said in a rather stoic tone. "You are far from home. This is the world I was raised in. Meet strangers and judge them quickly to survive, decide friend from foe, help to hindrance. You and your brother are good men that I am trusting with my life."

"You shouldn't make assumptions so fast," Federico countered almost haughtily. "Maybe I am not as kind and generous as you think. Maybe you will find yourself violated in the morning."

Ruxandra snorted very uncharacteristically. "You would _never_ do something like that."

"What makes you so certain?"

"We already spent a night together in the same bed and you did not touch me with even your little finger."

"Well I wanted to…" Federico accidently admitted. He mentally cursed himself.

The girl tittered her amusement that sounded like a bird chirping. She said nothing more, instead turning her back on the boy while she removed her attire. When it dawned on Federico that there was no chemise to cover her nude from he squeezed his eyes shut, although the shifting of fabric made him open the right one to glance at her.

Much to his chagrin Ruxandra drew one of the long white garments from her trunk before settling beneath coarse blankets. "…Do you still want to share?"

"You already said no."

"I changed my mind." His words were smooth as silk. "And I'm cold."

"Bugiardo…" Ruxandra muttered, though not hushed as she thought. She heard the boy take three long strides and felt his hands sink into the mattress. Warm breath tickled her cheek, then she tensed up when dry lips brushed the bone. "Va bene…" she quietly acquiesced.

Federico gratefully nestled himself alongside the girl whose back conformed to his chest. He felt the smooth fabric around her upper arm and her shoulder, then slowly ran his hand down her waist, stopping when he felt a hip bone in his palm. Ruxandra giggled slightly.

"Does that tickle?" he asked with a smirk.

"Si…"

Federico wiggled his fingertips which made the girl shudder. He did it again and she squeaked. His other hand found the space beneath her ear and much high-pitched laughter filled the room. "Federico... stop it!"

"All right, all right…" he grinned. "I just love the sound of your voice." Bright blue eyes stared up at him and a shy smile threatened to ruin her annoyed expression. Federico pushed back a strand of corn silk hair, gently running his fingers down her face where they settled on the nape of her neck.

"Sărută-mă…" she whispered.

Federico leaned closer. "What?"

"Kiss me."

The words were so unexpected he was momentarily stunned. Then he felt his blood surge and realized he could also feel Ruxandra's heart pounding in her chest, which was only inches from his own. Federico inhaled deeply to compose himself; he knew if he didn't remain at least somewhat calm he would easily get carried away and succumb to the flames of desire.

Ruxandra pushed her lips up to meet him, inhaling sharply as she did so as if she regretted it. Federico all but dropped his weight upon her but quickly caught himself. He couldn't prevent releasing a slight groan of satisfaction while savoring the girl's luscious full lips that again tasted like wine. Briefly he wondered if she was slightly tipsy but the thought was shoved away when her arms snaked around his back and pulled him closer.

Their tongues met to perform an interesting ballet. Federico had done this dance before but Ruxandra didn't know the steps, so the boy regretfully left it alone. His teeth found her bottom lip and gave it a nip that made her gasp in protest. "Sorry…" Federico murmured, pulling away to leave damp kisses on her neck.

Federico tasted skin too soft to be mortal. He nibbled and sucked and breathed deeply to inhale the scent of the sprite he had captured. Rose petals, juicy apples and wine intoxicated his mind although he was vaguely aware that his hands were trying to remove the garment that separated Ruxandra's body from his lips and tongue.

"Hah… halt…" the girl breathed, and he did. Her chest rapidly rose and fell and wide eyes fluttered like a frightened animal.

"Mi dispiace, mia columba… I did not mean to hurt you."

"You… you are…" Ruxandra gasped, "…like fire… consuming me."

Federico pondered that statement. "Is… that bad?" Lord knowing he didn't want to stop at all.

"We cannot do this," she said more calmly. "I cannot give myself to you."

"Why not? Does it not feel good?" In one smooth motion he rolled to the other side of the bed with Ruxandra atop. She stared down in a bewildered manner, unsure of what to say or do. "You know I am willing to give all of myself to you…"

"Y-you should not be willing," the girl slowly stammered. "God forbids lust… he will send me to Hell."

Federico lay with his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in unbridled skepticism. "_What?_"

"God… will punish me… if I let you have me," she said very pointedly. "You must leave me alone, Federico, or I will fall victim to lust and be condemned to Hell."

The boy shook his head incredulously. "You _asked_ me to kiss you, Roxana. Why did you do that if you knew…? Forget it." Federico tilted his body for the girl to slide off, then abandoned her bed to return to the bottom bunk opposite the room. Her words of conviction were almost infuriating; why would she request intimacy if she knew what it led to? Even she couldn't be _that_ naïve.

* * *

Noon on the open sea was somewhat humbling. Federico stood at the bow letting salt water spray his face each time the ship split a huge wave. Wind tossed his auburn hair and the air stung his eyes a little, but he thought of nothing besides reaching their destination.

"Aye, fratello…" Ezio stumbled up to his left shoulder. "How long did I sleep?"

"Early last night to now," his brother provided. "Do you feel okay?"

"I need to eat…" He hobbled off to the stairs leading to the galley and for a moment Federico thought he would fall right down them, but Ezio clung to the wall like a spider to support himself. After emerging in the dimly lit eatery he plunked down at one table that reeked of Muscat wine; the scent made his head spin and he groaned loudly.

"Ezio?" a singsong voice punctured the haze. Ruxandra leaned down to grin in his face. "It appears you need a slice of warm bread."

"Si…" he mumbled weakly.

"And some of the fresh fruit Federico bought yesterday."

"Is it even still fresh?" He managed to sit up and support his head with a sturdy elbow. The girl smiled before skipping over to a dry barrel. She removed the lid and a burlap sack to withdraw a couple peaches and a bunch of red grapes which she gingerly placed before Ezio. "Eat!"

He groaned once more. "I am never drinking Ottoman wine again."

"That is unfortunate," Ruxandra snickered. "Where we are going in Constantinople, there is excellent wine and food. I am certain you will enjoy it."

Ezio was sober enough to ask some of the questions his brother wanted answered. "Why did you go there? If you were trying to get to Firenze you went very far out of the way."

The girl sat down beside him with her own apple and bit a large chunk out of it. "I did not plan on traveling to Florence. When I was ten and the revolution began, I joined the Romani who wanted to leave it all behind. They are like my second family… they were sometimes more of a family than my mother and grandmother. They taught me how to see beauty in all things natural and see the spirit of people instead of their faces."

"You aren't like other girls," Ezio mused while popping grapes into his mouth. "You worked for a bordello but did not sleep with any men. You spent the night in my brother's room and I didn't hear any sounds of passion. And just last night, because I am certain I had a moment of stunning clarity, you were ready to make love with Federico yet you threw God in his face. I have never met a woman who would deny her own desires because the man in the sky told her she would go to Hell."

Ruxandra blushed slightly and averted her gaze from Ezio's cynical visage. "I do not truly believe that making love will condemn me to fiery torture when I pass on—"

"You just don't want to spread your legs for Federico."

She waved the remark away. "My Grandmother always said that… two people should be _married_ before completely giving themselves to one another. And my mother had never lain with a man before meeting my father."

Ezio hummed his comprehension. "So you're just… inexperienced." He stroked his stubbly facial hair that would need to be shaved off before it made him itch terribly. "I think you're afraid of being physical with a man."

"That is ridiculous…" the girl muttered. She turned the other way and shook her head slightly, mumbling words in her native tongue.

"Then prove me wrong and kiss Federico when you actually feel like it. Don't question it, don't second guess yourself, and don't care who sees!" Ezio stood up with a wink, pocketing the peach he hadn't eaten. "I'll tell him you wanted him to have this."

Ruxandra started to protest before realizing how futile her words were to Ezio. Her hand returned to the table, defeated, and she sat in complete silence until a soft voice cleared itself behind her. "Captain Emin…" she sighed, and the large man sat down at the opposite end of the bench.

"The brother of that boy loves you, Ruxandra. And from what I just heard it sounds like you love him as well. I may be an old sea goat, but I have loved my share of women enough to recognize it in others, especially you youngin's. The Italians, they don't hide their feelings… they say what is on their mind instead of stifling it to torture themselves."

"I do not _love_ Federico Auditore…" the girl dejectedly replied. "I do not know what it would feel like if I loved him. It would not be as confusing as this…"

The captain smiled beneath his beard. "Love _is_ confusing, my lady! You have learned much during your, what, ten years abroad? But as I am older than you believe me when I say love isn't something you should be frightened to feel. Painters draw it, poets sing it, and sculptors idolize it. Let this boy into your heart and you will achieve something everyone searches for their entire life, this I promise you."

Ruxandra almost rolled her eyes; why should she take romantic advice from the old man who had taken all her jewelry to ferry them to Constantinople? _'Men are greedy…'_ she thought before facing him with a hint of resentment. "Everyone that I love gets hurt, Captain Emin. I had to leave my mother and grandmother so they would be safe. I had to leave the Romani because their families were in danger. And I had to leave Firenze to prevent my uncle from harming the innocent… yet, I fear it is too late for the Auditore…"

His large palm thumped upon the table. "Well my lady, I don't know anything about your personal life or history, so I will leave you with one last piece of advice: don't give up. If you feel like you are going down, do so with a fight that people will remember forever!" He left the girl with a deep chortle to return to the helm.

Ruxandra held her head in her hands, unable to shake the feeling that behind them in Firenze her uncle had somehow discovered her involvement with the Auditore. What if they had tortured Giovanni into giving up everything he knew and Hungarian knights were already waiting in Transylvania, waiting to extract the location of the ring from her by force?

She could easily recall the feeling of the ruby ring pulsating in her hand like a heart. Each beat sent horrible, distorted images through her mind; visions of a world that was no longer green or pure or filled with happiness. Fires raged across the land, leaving nothing but ash to be blown away by savage winds. Faces she recognized stared back with cold, wide, lifeless eyes and open mouths silently screamed in agony, their souls condemned to eternal torture.

This was the world she had seen in the ring. This was the one thing above all others that had driven her to run far away from her homeland, knowing that if she held the ring a second longer the vision would become reality, and she refused to let its hatred and lust for chaos consume her.

But this was exactly the world her uncle sought to create.


	7. Chapter 6: Reminiscence

_**Translations**_  
_Hatun: Turkish honorific for "lady"_  
_Dio mio: my god_  
_Capisci: understand_  
_Intesi: understood_  
_Merhaba: hello (T)_  
_Memnun oldum: pleased to meet you (T)_  
_Iyi geceler: good night (T)_  
_Her sey icin tesekkur ederim: thank you for everything (T)_  
_Buona notte: good night_  
_Miracoloso: miraculous_  
_Figa: vagina_

* * *

Chapter Six

Reminiscence

"Too bad this is the only peach you get to sample from Roxana," Ezio luridly smirked while leaning over the railing beside his brother.

"She won't let me 'sample' her…" Federico sighed. "Making love is against her religion… or something."

"It's not like you to give up on a girl so easily. The Federico I know is persistent and wouldn't back down until charming her out of her skirt!" Ezio stared down into cerulean waters, knowing he had to take his brother's mind off being rejected last night. He eyed the rapier dangling from his hip. "When was the last time you actually used one of those, eh?"

"I never forget what I learn," Federico replied with a partial smile. "I bet you don't even know the proper stance for _that_ sword."

"You doubt my skill, fratello?" Ezio strode into the middle of the deck, unsheathing his long blade with a flourish.

The boy with shorter hair scoffed and laughed loudly. "I taught you everything you know, and I have barely showed you anything that Father taught _me_." He slowly moved to stand before Ezio, drew his rapier and assumed a stance that evenly distributed his weight. "Show me what you've got… if anything at all!"

Ezio lunged at his brother with a wide slash that was easily countered. Frowning a little, he tried a diagonal strike that Federico stepped out from beneath. "You're all over the place, fratellino. Face me head-on."

Although Ezio was remiss to take his brother's advice, he kept his eyes forward and advanced with a series of three quick taps against the thin rapier blade. "Bene. Watch your feet." He copied the move and amazingly Ezio retreated without tripping over himself. Federico distanced himself once more, waiting a moment before jabbing the tip of his sword at his brother's knees. The long sword deflected it with a smooth arc. "You're a quick study!"

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "You're not a terrible teacher, fra'." Ezio spent the next hour or two beside his older brother, copying slashes, jabs and footwork. Ruxandra watched them with a passive expression from the helm where Captain Emin was constantly barking orders. "How much longer until the capitol?" she inquired.

"We will be there before sundown, don't you worry." He paused to stroke his beard. "What do you have waiting there, my lady?"

A fond smile snuck across her lips. "Constantinople was my home for almost nine years. When I first arrived there I was lost, wandering without purpose. I needed money for food, so I danced, and everyone stopped walking to watch me. Then a kind noblewoman took me into her home to give me food and shelter, and I was able to lead a fine life with her."

"Does this lady have a name?" the captain wondered.

"She is called Nasrin."

Captain Emin released an unexpected bout of laughter. "Are you fooling me, my lady?"

"Of course not," the girl frowned. "What is so amusing?"

"The Sultan has made her his second wife! Nasrin Hatun she is called now! I believe she is expecting a child as well!

Ruxandra was stunned. "My, how time seems to pass me by so quickly… It has only been a little over one year since I left Constantinople, but now I do not know if Nasrin will be able to accommodate we three…" Although she was happy for her mentor she had been looking forward to fine food, drink and the most comfortable bed she had ever slept on. What if Nasrin looked down upon her and the brothers from her new social standing?

'_It seems we shall find out…'_ Ruxandra thought a few hours later as the harbor came into view. Already the grand capitol city of Constantinople loomed before them, glittering like gold above the sandy shore. Round roofs with pointed spires pierced the sky and lean boats with crisp sails glided by as they approached the dock. Longshoremen began shouting orders to one another, and the crew cast down ropes to secure the ship in its berth.

"Dio mio…" Federico breathed, "This city is incredible!"

"We could get lost if we lose Roxana," Ezio agreed. "Let us find her."

The girl came to them, however, hefting two sacks of clothing over each shoulder. She flung one of them into Federico's chest which knocked some air from his lungs, and she smirked. "It is a good thing you are already dressed. Stay close to me and do not speak to anyone. Capisci?"

"Intesi!" the brothers nodded. They disembarked the vessel with a wave to the captain and were immediately surrounded by men and woman of all ages in a variety of clothing. It seemed there was no social caste in the market because everyone gossiped, argued and bartered with one another freely, much different than Florence where the nobles did not venture to the poorer areas of the city.

Federico locked his eyes on the girl's pink head wrap but soon found himself watching the sway of her hips. They twisted and turned as Ruxandra dodged clusters of people speaking in a language neither he nor Ezio had any hope of comprehending. Luckily they were clad in their Ottoman attire so nobody gave them a second look.

Finally the girl paused outside a nice home with a rainbow of flowers and vines growing from window boxes of the first and second floors. She exhaled nervously, then used a brass ring to knock three times upon the gilded door. After ten anxious seconds, it opened to reveal the face of a tanned, raven-tressed woman who was very pregnant beneath her deep blue kaftan.

"Rousanak?" the woman grinned. "Is that you?"

"Merhaba, Nasrin. Should I now call you Nasrin Hatun?" the girl returned, not letting on how relieved she was. The woman clapped her hands together before leaning down to give Ruxandra a tight hug.

"You look so different! I trust you made it to Italya just fine?"

"Yes I did. But now I am on the way home, which is why these men are with me…" She stepped aside to introduce the brothers in Turkish. "This is Federico and Ezio Auditore of Florence."

"Memnun oldum," Nasrin politely bowed her head. "You are all more than welcome into my home." She stepped back and Ruxandra indicated for the boys to follow her, which they tentatively did. Federico nodded his gratitude and Ezio gave her a broad grin.

"If the women here are as pretty as her when pregnant, I can't wait to meet some regular-sized ones."

"Ezio!" his brother hissed, "Show some respect!" His brow slowly unfurrowed as he began taking in the sights of the lavish abode that was dripping in marble of various colors. Bright tiles outlined fountains trickling from the walls and there was a plethora of plants in polished vases. Velvet curtains in rich hues marked each new section of the house and Federico inhaled deeply as clouds of incense tickled his nose.

"Your old room is still fully furnished," Nasrin smiled at the girl, "and the other guest rooms are prepared. Please show them while I prepare some tea, or should I have my servants begin cooking something more filling?"

"Thank you, that would be wonderful." Ruxandra turned toward her guardians who were distracted by the opulence of the house. "Come, this way." They silently trailed her up the stairs that deposited them onto a balcony with a wrought iron railing. Farther down the hall was four sets of closed curtains; Ruxandra pushed through the first portal on the right, sighing contentedly as fond memories came rushing back.

It was in this room she had learned to sew like a royal seamstress under the strict tutelage of Nasrin. The familiar desk she had spent many nights pouring over tomes in an attempt to master the language of the Ottoman Empire still sat in the corner, and a plush canopy bed occupied the adjacent wall. She also had her own divan that was covered with an embroidered blanket and pillows, and a tall armoire stood waiting for clothes to fill it once more.

"You lived like royalty," Ezio remarked of such opulent quarters. "How could you stand La Rosa Colta?"

"It was better to have a roof over my head than a crate in an alley," the girl returned before attempting to shoo them away. "Settle in to whichever room you want, we are the only guests here."

Federico folded his arms. "I see Nasrin is expecting… Is she married? Where is her husband?"

"She is married to the Sultan," Ruxandra explained while putting her clothes away. "But she owned this house beforehand. Since she is pregnant she is allowed to live away from him until the baby is born, then she will move back to the palace."

"Ah" Federico said plainly before leaving to claim the room opposite her own. It was similarly styled but had a different color scheme in addition to a large medicine cabinet that supported a bowl of potpourri. Sniffing it reminded him too much of Ruxandra; apples and rose petals made his blood surge. He briskly crossed the hallway again. "What are we doing here?" he nearly demanded. "Why not just go straight to your homeland?"

Ruxandra rotated with a sigh. "We will need supplies for such a long journey. Nasrin will help us gather them, and can provide information given her new position as a wife of el-Fatih. She can use her contacts to keep an eye out for spies my uncle may have sent."

Federico slightly scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You keep saying that, but we have yet to run into anyone wishing us harm. I feel confident that we left Firenze without anyone besides my family knowing."

Her visage grew clouded. "That is what I am worried about, Federico… I fear for them."

He couldn't help but smile at her concern for people she barely knew. "How could your uncle have found out that we fed you and let you sleep in my bed?" A devious smirk twisted his lips. "Which, I might add, resulted in the best sleep I have ever had."

"Then you should cherish that feeling because it will never happen again." She severed the frosty glare by turning her back on Federico. "I cannot afford to let anything I might feel for you delay our task."

_'But you do feel something…'_ the tall boy dejectedly thought. _'You just won't admit it!'_ Federico cautiously let himself be absorbed by the plush mattress while running his hands over silk sheets. Perhaps after they made it to Transylvania and Ruxandra turned her father's ring over to their possession, he could persuade her to return to Firenze with him. _'I could marry her…'_ he mused, _'she is a lady of Hungary, not just some trollop like Mother believes. I'll buy her a gown and a ring, and have Annetta prepare the most romantic meal anyone has ever eaten. I'll propose, and she'll say yes, and everyone will be happy for us.'_

_"But before all that, you must make it to Transylvania in one piece. You have no idea what is waiting there… or who."_

Federico shook his head in denial of the subconscious fear. _'No one but her mother and grandmother, that's who.'_

* * *

Nasrin put her guests at ease thanks to the aid of a chamomile-infused tea. Night fell upon them, a gradual shroud that blanketed the city in slumber. Gone were the chattering crowds and the chirping of birds. Guiding candles were lit outside most buildings but neither Federico nor Ezio felt like exploring such unfamiliar terrain. They decided to make polite conversation with the noblewoman by speaking through Ruxandra.

She became the second wife of sultan Mehmed II but a few months after Ruxandra left for Italy. Being the daughter of the Grand Vizier granted her substantial power in the city, most notably the ability to manage her own household. When her father attained his position in the palace he left the house in Nasrin's care, but legally she was not allowed to claim ownership as a woman on her own. This was one such law Karamani Mehmet Pasha was working to undo in his attempt to bring the administration into the current century.

Nasrin was seven months pregnant and expected the child would be a boy judging by how strongly he kicked her belly. Ruxandra tentatively placed a hand upon her swollen abdomen, gasping when she felt movement beneath her palm. "I cannot imagine what it would be like to carry a life within me…" She blushed at the thought, wishing the Auditore brothers were not around. Thankfully they couldn't understand her words.

"I should think you would have met plenty of fine gentlemen in Florence," Nasrin said from beyond her teacup. "Like these two lads. They are both very handsome!"

"What did she say?" Ezio wanted to know while enjoying some fresh bread and vegetable spread.

"She says you and Federico are handsome," Ruxandra snorted. "I suppose compared to the men who hide behind such thick facial hair, you would be."

"Tell her I think she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," the boy returned with arched eyebrows.

The fair-haired girl gave a stern look before turning to their hostess. "I think Ezio should meet your sister tomorrow. They are both younger than I, and she could take him shopping for the supplies we need while I go to the market with Federico."

Nasrin looked thoughtful for a moment before her pale lips separated in a grin. "That's a wonderful idea! Oh, Dilara will find him so charming!" Her deep brown eyes narrowed mischievously. "If I did not know you better, Rousanak, it would seem as if you are trying to set them up for romance."

The girl instantly held up her hands to deny such intentions. "I would never! Ezio and Federico were tasked with escorting me back to my homeland, so I cannot conceive the thought of distracting them!"

"If you say so!" Nasrin winked. "I think it is time we all went to bed. It sounds like you have much to accomplish tomorrow, and it is best to enter the market before the sun rises too high." She stood up with the silver tray in hand that supported an empty teapot and cups and smiled kindly. "Iyi geceler, the three of you."

"Her şey için teşekkür ederim, Nasrin." Ruxandra respectfully lowered her head before departing the dining area with Federico and Ezio in tow and couldn't prevent a yawn from escaping when she arrived outside her room. "Buona notte, signori. We rise early in the morning and after gathering what we need…" She paused to sniff disdainfully. "You two _must_ make use of the bathtub."

The brothers initially laughed at the suggestion that they were malodorous, but after waking and smelling the sheets that drew every bead of sweat from their bodies, they agreed that a hot soak would be of benefit. Ruxandra had clothed herself in a long-sleeved robe that reached her knees beneath which a pair of loose, wide pants hid her feet. The pale colors were such a stark contrast to the attire Federico was accustomed to seeing her in that when he entered the main hall he thought she was someone else entirely.

"What are you wearing?" he asked when she rotated to face him.

"This is called jabador, an outfit Nasrin used to wear. Now she finds the kaftan more comfortable." She took in Federico's striped pants, sleeveless shirt and long vest. He had managed to secure a turban around his head at a jaunty angle which she found acceptable. Ezio emerged from his room in similar attire, minus a shirt, which made the girl sigh. She called out a farewell to their hostess before exiting into the not-yet-bustling street.

"First we are going to the residence of Nasrin's sister. Her name is Dilara and she lives with her mother. She will take Ezio to buy us some horses, and you and I will acquire as much food as we can carry." She said the last to Federico who simply nodded. "Then we will need tents, for the journey will take several days, and medicine and bandages in case of an accident. There is plenty of fresh water in the mountains."

Ezio held up a finger. "Are you sure we won't need anything else, such as more weapons? You never know what could be waiting in the wilderness."

Ruxandra laughed slightly. "I _do_ know because I have made the trip already!"

"Well, that was nine years ago," the boy refuted, "things could be different now. Perhaps there are bandits waiting beside the road or a pack of ravenous wolves scouring the forest."

"We have our swords," Federico said, "and Roxana has her dagger. I think that should be enough to fend off anything that would wish us harm."

The girl hummed her finality on the subject and turned on her heel. They arrived at the main thoroughfare of the city, the sights causing the brothers' necks to crane as they sought to absorb every intricate detail. Vendors were still setting up and men were already at work on the docks transporting cargo and repairing ships. Ruxandra turned down a wide alley where she knocked on a door beside which hung a lit bronze sconce.

A man-servant appeared, raising a curious eyebrow at the trio. "I am here to meet with Dilara on behalf of her sister, Nasrin Hatun." The man left them for a moment before returning to open the door wide enough for a girl with a youthful gleam in her eye to step through.

"By Allah, I never expected to see you again, Rousanak!" She took up the Transylvanian in a tight hug that earned interest from Ezio. "How are you? How is my sister? Is she handling the pregnancy well?"

Ruxandra smiled at the imploring hazel eyes. "She is very well, but you should know, should you not? Do you not still see her?"

Auburn locks rippled as Dilara shook her head. "No, I don't. All my time is devoted to reading and writing." She smiled ruefully. "Baba wants me to become educated so I have a chance at a life outside the palace. He doesn't approve of my sister's status with el-Fatih." The girl bit her lip, unsure if she should be telling an old friend such secrets.

"Why not? Nasrin is having his son. Everyone in the city will revere her for that."

"Everyone except the family of his first wife, Amina. Even though our father is Grand Vizier they look down on us… I fear for my sister in her vulnerable state. That is why I am glad to see you and these… striking men. Who are they?" Dilara skirted her friend to give the boys a once-over, blushing slightly when Ezio returned the interested stare.

"How about I show this one some Florentine hospitality?" He elbowed Federico who sighed in exasperation.

Ruxandra did not look amused either. "Federico, Ezio, please meet Dilara, the second daughter of Grand Vizier Karamani."

It was a title that meant nothing to the brothers but they knew Nasrin was the daughter of someone important in the city which made her sister a noble as well. Ezio offered a sweeping bow that made the girl titter, and the oldest members of the quartet could already tell there might be trouble keeping them separated. Dilara rested her cheek in her hand while seeking to withdraw the true motives of why Ruxandra had such fine traveling companions. "Shall we get on with the day?"

The area around Galata Tower was already jam-packed with all manner of vendors, consumers and beggars. "Stay off that side of the street," Dilara warned, leading the trio who tried not to step on her pale orange kaftan that slightly dragged on the ground. "No one there but thieves who will rob you blind."

"Is there unrest in the city?" Ruxandra wanted to know. "It seems things are just as I remember."

Dilara flashed the older girl a look of pity. "The gaps between certain classes are growing. People who come from the far reaches of the empire are looked down upon, so el-Fatih hopes that making my father Grand Vizier will prove that he doesn't have the best interest of only Istanbul at heart. My father is trying his best to change the laws, but the other advisors stand in his way."

"It almost sounds as if there is a group of people deliberately preventing his progress…" The blue-eyed girl sighed knowing there was nothing she could do and too many things she didn't completely understand. "Dilara, would you mind showing Ezio to the stables so he can buy horses for our journey?"

"Certainly," she smiled, holding out a hand for the boy. He glanced from it to Ruxandra who grinned, then Ezio slipped his arm beneath that of their guide and they walked off like a royal couple.

"Some rules of courtship must be universal," Federico remarked with a partial smirk. "Are you sure you trust him alone with her?"

Ruxandra snickered. "Dilara knows she is of a higher class than Ezio. She might entertain his arrogance, but that is all." They walked side by side toward the docks where stands of dry goods were beginning to open.

"But she's a noble, and Ezio and I are nobles, and you are as well. I don't believe that your standing in society should dictate who you are permitted to have feelings for. My brother might seem like an amorous lover, but he really prefers the company of ladies who can think and act for themselves, like Cristina back home." He stopped when the girl exuded a rueful sigh.

"I am not a noble, Federico. Perhaps I would be a member of my uncle's court if my father was still alive, but he is not. I am just an ordinary girl trying to return to the only family I foolishly left behind, and get the ring of my father into your hands before my uncle does. He could have knights there as we speak searching the castle day and night until he finds it!"

The nearest fruit vendor eyed them with interest so Ruxandra turned her back on the man. "We are leaving tomorrow. Our journey should take but a few days, then I will show you the home my father built for us. I pray we will find sanctuary there."

"I guess we won't know until then," Federico dourly replied. The girl's expression told him everything he had hoped not to see; that all she cared about was getting home to her mother and grandmother, and any emotions that may have been stirred regarding him had been drowned under resolute resolve. Although this fact was greatly disappointing, Federico admired her sense of duty, a trait that seemed to be becoming more and more uncommon in the world. _"Don't hesitate to raise your sword to her defense…" _his subconscious decreed. _"If you fail Roxana, you fail your father."_

_'That's right… I agreed to this for his sake. If only I could speak to him now…'_

Over the course of a couple hours Ruxandra filled their large basket with all manner of dried goods such as crackers, smoked meats, nuts and dates. "If you ever find yourself lost in the desert, you can survive as long as you have dates," she explained with a smile. "They are a miracle fruit. Our horses will remain strong if they eat them."

"Are you sure we don't need water?" Federico severely doubted her claim that there was an abundance of rivers in the northern lands. "I can fill a few satchels at that well over there."

Ruxandra shielded her eyes to look in the direction of his pointing finger. "I guarantee you, Federico Auditore, that we do not need water. It is fresher in the mountains anyway."

"Great…" He wiped a hand down his sweaty face. "Can we go inside now? I can't stand this heat!" Although Constantinople was a giant maze Ruxandra led him back to the home of Nasrin without error. Once inside the shaded space he removed the turban to feel how perspired his scalp really was, and a bath sounded more than divine.

Their hostess had one of her servant girls begin filling a porcelain basin with warm water that had been heated beneath the sun. It took five full buckets to raise the water level to one that Federico could fully immerse himself in, and as he was undressing, two of the handmaidens giggled and whispered shyly to one another before scurrying off. Ruxandra passed them in the corridor, shaking her head at such behavior. Yes, Federico was handsome and physically attractive, but it wasn't as if they were permitted to interact with him to such extents.

The boy started when Ruxandra emerged through the curtain. "I thought you could use some cleaning products," she explained while proffering a small woven basket. "A loofah would greatly help, and Argan oil will ease any sore muscles."

"Grazie…" Federico mumbled, hoping the water was dark enough to shield his nether regions. "Any word from Ezio?"

The girl folded her arms with a scowl. "He is with Dilara at her home. They will be coming over to share an evening meal." This news made Federico sigh before sifting through the basket. He examined the porous loofah before slowly rubbing along each arm. He tried scrubbing his back but his shoulders were too broad to allow such angles. "Would you like me to try?" Ruxandra amusedly offered.

"Va bene," he acquiesced with a sigh, holding the loofah over one shoulder. He leaned forward while the girl knelt on the tiled floor and drew up her sleeves to prevent soaking them. When Federico felt the slightly abrasive yet soft device making circles on his upper back he groaned his thanks. He relaxed even more as all the tension he had been carrying was pushed right out of his spine.

"Miracoloso…" Federico breathed, his husky tone making the girl blush. "The only thing that would make me feel even better is if you were in here with me." The circles stopped and his eyes snapped open. _'Cazzo, what did I just say?!'_ Ruxandra dropped the loofah with a splash and rose to her feet to leave him be, but Federico reached out to grasp one leg of the sky blue pants. "Wait, Roxana! I didn't mean that!"

"Of course you did…" the girl bit out. "You just cannot face me as anything other than another potential conquest, Federico Auditore. From the first day we met that is all you have thought about, is it not? Letting me sleep in your bed, kissing me, fondling me while at sea… All I am to you is another figa."

"That's not true!" Federico desperately returned. "I want to help you, Roxana! You asked for help from my father and he appointed me to get the job done! My only interest is making sure you arrive home safe and sound; I don't even care about the ring! As long as you find happiness, that's all I care about…"

He felt pretty pathetic bearing his soul to a girl shooting him a frigid glare while practically falling out of the bathtub stark naked. "Please, Roxana… I know you're thinking about making the journey on your own, but it's too dangerous without Ezio and I to protect you! Don't risk your life because of my idiotic words."

The intense storm in her blue eyes made him shiver a little and Federico finally realized that he knew absolutely nothing about her; either that or each time he got to know one facet of her personality a new one presented itself. She was the alluring girl in the red dress across the street. She was the humble guest having dinner at his house. She was the damsel in distress seeking refuge with his family. She was the silver tongue that charmed a Venetian guard and Captain Emin. Federico's first look into her eyes must have only revealed the shallow mask that now crumbled away to reveal such complexity.

After a long staring contest Ruxandra finally shook her head and passed back through the velvet curtains. Federico couldn't tell whether she would remain upset with him or be over it tomorrow, so all he could do was sit back against the wall of the basin and finish cleansing himself.

* * *

Federico could hear the girl's soft footsteps pacing across the hall for several hours after the sun went down. He knew his words from earlier in the day were responsible for keeping her awake, but if Ruxandra truly had God on her side then she should have able to simply place them in the corner of her mind marked "Lustful Things Federico Says or Does". So why couldn't she do that?

"_You need to talk to her,"_ his subconscious suggested. _"State your feelings clearly and perhaps she will do the same. It would be better than traveling to Transylvania with so much tension between you."_

'_She already knows how I feel, and she rejected me. There is nothing left to talk about.'_ Federico frowned when he caught another sigh of sadness. If he wasn't already accustomed to it he would have thought she was crying, but Ruxandra definitely wasn't the type of girl who cried over men. She was probably anxious to return to her remaining family and the memory of her father.

"_She rejected you because she is jealous of you. You have three siblings and she has none. All your friends are in the same place, not hundreds of miles away. Your father is waiting to welcome you home, but there are no strong arms to embrace Roxana."_

'_Because he was killed by the king before her Uncle Matthius…'_ So why couldn't he be the one to comfort her? _'Perhaps I should be.'_

Federico folded back the blankets and crept up to the curtain barring Ruxandra's room. "Are you all right, mia cara?" he hushed voice inquired. His answer was a sharp gasp, but the footsteps briskly came to stand just on the other side of the velvet. "If you want to talk, I will listen."

The shroud slowly peeled away to reveal watery eyes and damp cheeks. "So you have been weeping. Why for?"

The girl took in a shuddering breath. "I am afraid, Federico… Terrified!" She stepped back to allow him entry, and he noticed that there were no creases at all on the bedspread.

"What are you afraid of?" She finally sat down on the edge of the mattress and he followed suit.

Her voice came out wavering. "My uncle has already taken so much from me, from my people… I am positive that if I go back, my mother and grandmother will be gone as well. There will be no one to greet me besides the portraits hanging in the castle… I can already see their eyes staring down at me, knowing it is my fault that they are all that remains of our family!"

"Roxana…" Federico began by placing a hand on her back. "When we left Firenze your uncle was still there. We have only been here one day, and it took us two days to travel by ship. How could he be there before us? It is impossible, your family is safe."

The gaze she shot him was still full of fear. "Nothing is certain. I have been gone for _nine years_, Federico… Nine years would have given him enough time to kill them and track me down!"

The boy sucked in a nervous breath, unsure if he should be saying the words forming on his tongue. "Haven't you been praying for them?"

"…What?" the tiny voice replied.

"Have you not been praying to God to keep your family safe from harm?"

Ruxandra blinked several times in shock. "Ma certo… of course I have prayed for them."

"Then God has heard you and is protecting them even as we speak. He would make certain no harm has come to your mother or grandmother." He smiled when the sniffled and straightened up a little.

"Si… you are right. Surely he has heard my prayers."

"Which is why you will reunited with your family when we arrive at your home, of this I am certain." It was hard not to grin at her relieved expression that held no more glistening tears. Federico still wiped a damp trail from her cheek as he double checked to make sure she believed his words, but a contented sigh reassured him. _"She needs a friend more than a lover…"_

_ 'Why can't I become both?'_

_ "Perhaps you will be… in time." _Knowing she would finally be able to sleep, Federico kissed the top of her head and rose to his feet to return to his own quarters. Part of him knew this would be an opportune time to sleep beside the girl but he couldn't in good conscience take advantage of her emotional state. _'Trusted friend first…'_ he agreed, _'then her lover.'_


	8. Chapter 7: Anguish

**_Translations_**  
_Salak: silly, stupid (T)_  
_Curule: you ass (R)_  
_Bulangiu: jerk (R)_  
_Stronzo: asshole_  
_Nonna: grandmother_  
_Scusa ma hai torto: sorry, but you're wrong_  
_Salut, Bunica: hello, Grandmother (R)_  
_Avanti: enter/come in_  
_Malevolo: evil/malevolent_  
_Babac: Father (R)_  
_Fratello, qui: brother, here_  
_Pezzo di merda: piece of shit_  
_Futu-te: fuck you (R)_  
_Madonna: madam_  
_Che cazzo: what the fuck?_

* * *

Chapter Seven

Anguish

Ruxandra was awake before pink and orange even splashed the horizon. She dressed herself inconspicuously in set of black and silver jabador in addition to a head wrap that covered her face. Arabian horses were waiting at the stables so the girl tacked and led them back to the home of Nasrin where they attempted to eat some of her plants. Moving silently, she then transferred the bags of food and medicine to two of the steeds and secured their tents to the saddle of the third. Back inside Ruxandra wrote a brief letter of thanks for their hostess to read when she awoke, and it finally became time to roust her guardians.

She crept into Federico's quarters more stealthily than was probably required, thus managing to scare the wits out of the young man. Ruxandra lowered her cloth with a sly grin and Federico breathed a sigh of relief. "Get dressed while I wake Ezio" were her quiet instructions. The boy watched her spirit out of his room in a slightly stunned manner before stepping into a pair of thicker cotton pants and a long sleeved tunic, knowing the weather would become cooler in the north. Leather boots secured his ankles for riding and, like Ruxandra, he left a length of the turban untucked to shield his face.

Ezio mumbled incoherently while trying to swat the hand on his shoulder. He groaned loudly when it gave him a rather harsh shove. "Merda, I'm awake…"

"Hurry Ezio, we need to leave this city before the sun rises."

"La sole isn't even up yet?" he whined while rubbing such comfortable slumber from his eyes. "Remind me why I agreed to travel with you again."

Ruxandra smiled with a hand on her hip. "Because you are an honorable gentleman of Florence, salak."

Ezio lifted his head to offer the girl a bawdy sneer. "That wasn't how Dilara referred to me yesterday afternoon."

The girl's mouth dropped open incredulously. "Ezio, how could you?! You… and _Dilara?_ She is like a sister to me!"

"Well, I find it pretty amusing that your younger sister has more experience than you in the bedroom." He stood up to stretch, unmindful of Ruxandra's aghast countenance. He sauntered over to the spot where some clothes were already laid out. "I suppose if you had worked for a bordello besides La Rosa Colta, you would have heard that my brother and I are Firenze's finest lovers of women. They just can't resist us!"

"_I_ can…" Ruxandra glowered as she spun on her heel, stomping as loudly as the carpet would allow on her way downstairs. Federico emerged too late and so ventured next door with an eyebrow arched sky-high.

"Did I hear you correctly?" he questioned in a muted tone. "You made love to Nasrin's sister?"

Ezio grinned triumphantly. "Indeed I did. It was just the thing I needed to invigorate me for this journey."

"Dio mio, Ezio…" Federico dragged a weary hand down his face. "Do you realize there are more important things in this world than getting women into bed with you? It's almost embarrassing, the things you say to me… What if Nasrin had heard your comment when we first met her? She wouldn't have let you stay here, and you would be on the street getting into all kinds of trouble."

Ezio secured his leather vest with a sigh. "You know what I think?" He poked his brother's chest to solidify his next words. "You are _jealous_. You actually listened to Roxana when she said she didn't want you to make love to her. You know she didn't truly mean that, she was just nervous! You should have made her melt in your arms and then perhaps she wouldn't be so… hostile."

"Hostile?" Federico snorted. "She's not hostile, she's _afraid_… afraid that when we get to her home, her two remaining family members won't be there. And given how desperate she was to get away from her uncle, who might I remind you came all the way to Firenze to find her, I believe she has reason enough to fear."

His younger brother spread his arms. "So what are you going to do, Federico? As soon as Roxana gets home she will not have anything to do with you, nothing at all! She will forget your few romantic encounters, hand over her father's ring and send us on the way back to our palazzo. If you actually _like_ her, or love her even, you are running out of time to say so!" Now he planted a hand on Federico's chest. "You're running out of time to _do_ something about it."

The older Auditore shrugged dejectedly, scoffing slightly. "I don't quite know how I even feel about her, Ezio. Roxana… beguiles me. She's unlike any woman I've ever known. She doesn't _act_ like any other woman…"

"I'm certain you'll figure her out," Ezio smirked, "but I can't say if you will do so before it's too late." With that the brothers finished exchanging advice and quietly exited the home of Nasrin Hatun to join Ruxandra in their own saddles. The horses trotted along barren streets until reaching the northwest exit of Constantinople where a vast bridge stretched over the outlet of the Marmara Sea. "Are you going to miss it?" the younger Auditore asked after a moment.

"Miss Constantinople?" Ruxandra mused. "This place was home for half my life, and I have friends here. Yes, I am sad to be leaving this city yet again."

"How do you know your madre won't be upset with you for returning after ten years? What if she believes you are dead? First your father, then you…"

Ruxandra gazed at him coldly. "What are you telling me, Ezio?"

"If _we_ ran away from our mother and came home after so long, she would probably hate us. Your madre might believe you a fantasma, or that she is dreaming."

Federico furrowed his brow and would have smacked his brother upside the head if Ruxandra's steed wasn't between them. "You're so insensitive," he managed to breathe in the brisk morning air. "Just shut up."

The girl flashed him the tiniest of smiles before spurring her horse to the front of the group. The brothers somehow synchronized a yawn and laughed at the coincidence. "How long is this trip going to take?"

"Perhaps four days if the horses do not fall," Ruxandra answered. She looked quite regal in her black and silver ensemble atop the white mount.

"Why would they fall?"

"Because of the terrain. These horses are suited for the desert and open plains, but the Three Nations surround the unforgiving mountains. We will arrive on foothills comprised of rock and sparse grass, then pass through Wallachia and enter a labyrinth of sharp, deceitful rocks and cliffs. Luckily the snowy season has passed so it will not be too cold."

The brothers shared a look of mild horror. "I don't think I would have agreed to this if I knew the landscape would be trying to kill us," Ezio's stoic tone faltered. "We are at your mercy, Roxana."

"Indeed…" she smirked to herself. Her confidence was slowly beginning to return the further they ventured into the wild. Ruxandra had traveled this same path many years ago with a Romani caravan, hearing fantastic stories by day and singing and dancing around fires at night. The people whom her mother derogatorily referred to as gypsies had taught her how to live freely without inhibitions, but Ruxandra still adhered to the moral teachings instilled by her Grandmother Erzsebet.

When night fell the trio found a small clearing and Ruxandra showed the boys how to set up their Bedouin-style tents. She arranged some blankets and extra clothing into a mattress before removing her jabador. One of the few personal items she had brought was an Argan oil-infused moisturizer that her dry skin desperately needed.

As fate would have it Federico chose this exact moment to clear his throat before pulling back the front door flap. "Roxana? Can I speak with you?"

"Curule, Federico!" the girl shrieked, yanking the black robe over her exposed body. "Announce yourself before walking in on me!"

"I didn't think you'd be naked!" he shouted back, blushing profusely although he had only seen her bare legs before withdrawing. "I just wanted to speak with you about something!"

"Bulangiu…" the girl muttered in her native tongue. Federico paced in the grass until he heard fabric cease shifting, then he stuck his head in again. "What do you want?" she demanded.

The boy took his boots off by the entrance and crawled over to Ruxandra's makeshift bed that would probably be far more comfortable than what he had come up with. She regarded him icily while keeping her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Federico summoned his most charming smile. "First of all, what did you just call me?"

"I believe in your language it would be stronzo" was the pointed answer.

"So you do curse," the boy grinned, "that's good to know. I actually came to have a serious conversation with you…"

The girl still frowned. "So converse."

Federico mussed his hair, practically shivering in proximity of her frigid aura. "After Ezio and I return you to your castle, and you find the ring for us to take to our padre…" Here he inhaled deeply. "I wondered if you have thought about going back to Firenze with us… with me."

Her countenance shifted so abruptly Federico held his breath. Ruxandra eyed him with equal parts suspicion and intrigue before severing their gaze. "Go back… to Florence? With you?"

"Si, with me," the boy murmured. "To live with me."

"L-live with you?" Ruxandra stammered, facing him again. "What are you s-saying, Federico?"

"I'm saying that after the task of finding your father's ring is finished, I would like it very much if you would live in the house I am going to buy."

"And… how are you going to do that?"

Federico found it slightly amusing how sudden her changes in demeanor were, especially when she was caught off-guard. "My father is a banker. He has been teaching me the trade for years. I have plenty of money saved up, and I was thinking about moving to the town my uncle is in charge of. There is a villa there, but I would purchase my own home."

Ruxandra's eyes flicked back and forth while she tried to see past his solemn visage, but all he did was stare back with unreserved affection. "Of course, it wouldn't be a proper home without the beautiful voice of a lady to fill it." Federico brushed a lock of wavy blonde hair behind her ear while encroaching upon her mouth. "I want you to be that lady."

"Federico… stop…" There wasn't much strength behind the words, her lips quivering the closer he came.

"Why?"

"I… I cannot resist you."

He paused but a breath away from kissing her. "That's not a terrible thing, Roxana."

"Yes it is!" A hand pressed against his chest while she imploringly searched his visage full of desire. "I cannot do this with anyone but my husband."

"Then let us be married and I shall be your husband."

Ruxandra was so dazed her tongue could only form useless vowels. _'Marry… Marry… Marry Federico Auditore?'_ her mind questioned over and over again. _'Marry… and live with him?'_

_"How dare you would even consider such a proposal!"_ the voice of her grandmother harshly intervened. _"After ten years you finally return to Maria and I, who thought you dead! But you would rather leave us again to get married to some boy you barely know? God is ashamed of you, Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi!"_

_'I… I do not care!'_ she shouted back. _'I love this man, and He approves of love!'_

"Perhaps this will convince you…" Federico murmured again, and Ruxandra snapped back to the present when she felt warm lips pressing against her own. She stared cross-eyed at his nose before they flicked up to meet his earthy brown ones, but they were closed. He seemed so confident… but of what? Was the kiss supposed to make her say yes to his proposal of marriage?

Federico felt something cold dribble onto his cheek while the girl's lips twitched to form words. He pulled away to face her expectantly. "I cannot do this…" Golden waves shimmered as she shook her head. "This… is not the right time. Once I am home I promise I will give you an answer, Federico… I promise."

He tugged on his boots with a short sigh. "Then I expect you to uphold that promise. When I've returned you to your castle, tell me what you truly feel." As soon as the tent flap settled into place again Ruxandra released a silent flood of tears. She was torn between her family and Federico— how could anyone expect her to choose between them? "Dear Lord…" her faltering voice said aloud, "Please tell me… what should I do? I need your wisdom…"

* * *

Another day passed and the air became colder and harsher. Windy tendrils managed to billow through any loose piece of clothing and chill the brothers to the bone. Ruxandra produced some fur products from her magical sack of clothing to wrap their heads and hands, and at night they set their tents as close to the fire as possible. On the morning of the third day, however, the great snow-covered peaks of the Carpathian Mountains loomed menacingly in the distance while dark clouds swirled about. Still their horses pressed on, slightly protected from the elements when Ezio had the idea to place the tent canvas beneath their saddles.

"I thought you said the snowy season had passed!" Federico shouted through chattering teeth from the rear of their convoy. Although there was no snow actively falling, it coated the path and rocks surrounding them.

"It has!" Ruxandra turned in her saddle to reply. "This weather is not ordinary!"

"We cannot camp out in the open, you know!" Ezio added. "And the sun is going down… We need shelter!"

The girl desperately scanned the environment for a safe place they could spend the night. Ahead of the path was a bridge crossing a deep gorge, and on the other side she could make out a dark hole in the face of the mountain. "There is a cave just ahead!" she informed her guardians.

One at a time they crossed the rickety bridge, then Federico left his horse to tentatively enter the gaping maw of the cavern. Since he didn't have a torch he couldn't make out the interior too well, but his feet did not step on anything sharp and he couldn't reach the ceiling when he stretched. It also seemed warmer the farther he went, and he poked at a slightly glowing substance on the wall.

"It's safe, come on in!" he called out. The horse's hooves echoed within the cavern and they whickered their thanks of being out of the wind. Ruxandra's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness while she took several deep breaths.

"There is a spring in here," she remarked. "A warm one."

"Where?" Ezio rejoiced at the thought of soaking himself for a few hours.

"It is likely further within, but we will not be able to see it."

Federico turned back toward the glowing wall. "Come with me, fratellino. We'll find the water." Placing his hand on the damp rock, Federico slowly traced the path of luminance with his fingers while Ezio nervously clung to his tunic. After they rounded a corner an otherworldly sight greeted their eyes.

The strange substance filled the grotto with a greenish blue glow that reflected off the surface of the slightly steaming spring, and water dripping from stalactites provided a charming melody. Federico knelt beside the pool to dip his hand in, and he sighed as a feeling of calm surged through his chilled veins. "It's safe," he grinned at Ezio. "Bring Roxana."

It was so warm in this secret area of the cave that the travelers shed their furs without fear of frostbite. They combined two of the tents into a single shelter and spread the other canvas out over the floor, arranging their clothing into pillows and blankets. Ruxandra made the boys eat their fill of nuts and dried meat before feeding handfuls of dates to the horses, who had found a salty stalagmite to wear down.

Ruxandra reclined on a pile of furs in a silk top and matching pants that clung to every curve of her legs. Since Ezio was groaning his pleasure at sitting in the hot spring, Federico scooted closer to the girl, who cracked one blue eye open to survey him. "How far are we from your home?" he inquired.

"There is a beautiful valley at the other end of this path," the girl dreamily stated. "In this valley is a village surrounding a small lake, and on a hill to the west is the castle my father built for us."

"And once you reunite with your madre and nonna, you'll give me an answer to my question."

Ruxandra slightly frowned at the boy propped up on an elbow beside her. His fingers itched to feel the skin of her exposed midsection but he kept them curled in a fist. "It is not so simple."

"Yes it is," Federico pushed. "You either decide to live out the remainder of yours days in a castle in the mountains, or come with me to Monteriggioni where we live in a palazzo overlooking bright green fields. Fresh fruit each day, the finest wines of the region, sunsets to sit and watch every evening… It's beautiful, Roxana."

"My homeland is beautiful as well…" she said with an edge to her tone. "I grew up watching the sun rise over the snow-covered mountains and counting the days until all the flowers in the valley bloomed. Then I would sit for long hours making bracelets and necklaces for my mother and grandmother, and they would wear them with smiles." She sat up to offer a hard look. "It has been ten years since I saw their faces… I cannot simply leave them again."

"Then I'll speak to your mother and get her permission to make you my bride."

Ruxandra sat up with a scowl. "You seem to be under the impression that I have already decided to marry you, Federico. Scusa ma hai torto… I will not let you push me into a situation I am uncomfortable with."

They stared at one another with unwavering resolve. Federico was determined to break through her emotional boundaries and Ruxandra refused to let her attraction to the boy overcome her logic. Several silent minutes passed before a devious smile turned his lips. "I'll persuade you to choose me, Roxana, because I have your best interests in mind. You're safe with me; you could have everything you ever wanted with me. As your husband I will provide for you…" Here he brought the thin pale fingers to his lips which made her cheeks flush. "Materially… Emotionally…"

He was instantly looming above the girl, pressing her wrists into the fur-lined cloak beneath her head. A breath hitched in her throat as turmoil once again swam in her eyes, and Federico knew she was falling under his spell. "And physically…" Ruxandra's whole body tensed upon hearing those whispered words.

"F-F-Federico…" she finally managed to stutter, but feeling his lips on her own prevented anything more. Federico held the kiss until she exuded a hot breath, then he smiled knowingly.

"You torture me, mia cara. I hope you will soon ease the thunderous beating of my heart." The girl only half-smiled as he kissed her hand again before rising to his feet. Federico cross the grotto to the opposite side of the hot spring that Ezio had all but passed out in, then Ruxandra shielded her face as he stepped out of his trousers. "Care to join me?" he called out. His answer was an exasperated sigh.

* * *

The trio was remiss to leave the warm sanctity of the hot spring cave. As soon as they emerged beneath the stormy skies they were assaulted by a harsh wind and swirling, stinging snowflakes. It was for this reason that Ruxandra tightly wrapped the fur cloak around her body and covered her face so that only her eyes were showing. The horses plodded slowly along the mountain pass that began to decline after a couple hours.

Jagged boulders soon gave way to pebbles and trees, and the sky ahead was filled with white clouds instead of angry grey ones. Ruxandra turned into the thin forest to lead the horses to a briskly-flowing river, and although it was cold, man and beast drank eagerly from crystal-clear water. "Any longer in those mountains and my fingers would have frozen off!" Ezio remarked while stripping off his heavy outer layers.

"I can't feel my nose," Federico agreed with a sniffle. "Is the worst behind us?"

"Indeed," the girl grinned. "This is the edge of the valley, so if we stay close to the river it will lead us right to the lake and the village."

"And your palazzo," he nodded, which earned a shy smile. Their solace was suddenly interrupted by a chorus of howls. Federico's hand flew to the handle of his rapier and Ezio's head fearfully turned every direction.

Ruxandra giggled. "It is just wolves," she chided. "They are miles away from us. Everything echoes in this land."

"Are you sure?" the younger brother tensely inquired. "I don't want to die as supper for a pack of starving, snarling beasts."

"They do not hunt people," she smiled again. "Come, our journey is almost over."

Her reassurance began to wear off, however, as the howls seemed to slowly grow closer the further they ventured into the valley. The trees were dense and the path nearly overgrown, so the horses began to shy at every rustle in the bushes. Often it was a bird or rabbit, but as the last eerie howl faded away, Ezio glanced at the road behind them and spied a pair of yellow eyes glaring back.

"Roxana…" his voice nervously wavered, "I thought you said they were miles away from us." The girl and his older brother both turned around to follow his pointing finger, and as if on cue a scrawny black wolf emerged to stare at the humans and their horses. Federico frowned at the way its fur hung in patches, and it eyed them with more fear than interest.

"It's afraid of us…" he stated. "Look how thin it is. If the rest of the pack is as weak, there must not be much to eat around here." As expected the wolf ran off into a thicket when Federico spurred his mount forward and reared up. He offered his companions a shrug.

"How odd…" Ruxandra muttered in consternation. "I remember the woods being filled with plenty of creatures. I wonder what could have happened to them." Several minutes later the brothers had forgotten the encounter and were making small talk with one another. Once again the tree line grew thinner as the rocky road banked left and turned into dirt, leaves and pine needles. The sky grew ever clearer, and sunshine illuminated the sight that made the girl's lips separate into an unrestrained smile.

In the village a church bell rang out and the door of a cross-adorned building opened wide to expel a group of young children. After they had dispersed to return to their modest homes, an older woman with platinum hair and intelligent eyes appeared on the front step to wave goodbye. But her warm smile faded slightly when a few lingering students began excitedly pointing at the valley wall and shouting to one another. "Who do you see?" the woman called out.

"Travelers, Matron!" a little blonde boy answered with a grin. "Three of them on horseback!"

The woman frowned but managed to keep her composure while allowing the children to point out their location. "Up there, on the ridge!" they shouted.

"Yes, yes, I see them," she said in a calm tone. "Return to your homes. These strangers will be dealt with when they get here." Her pupils dispersed and she strained to absorb more details of the far-off travelers, but could only make out the blue blankets covering their horses. With pursed lips the woman turned on her heel and walked as quickly as she was able to the castle on the hill behind the village.

"Maria!" the woman called, her strong voice bouncing off stone corridors. "Maria, come to me!"

From the dining room appeared her middle-aged daughter-in-law with pale skin, rose red lips and hair like raven feathers. Maria's slightly weary visage gazed at her late husband's mother with a high eyebrow. "Strangers have come to our village," the matron couldn't help but smile. "Do you know what that could mean?"

Maria held up her hand. "Don't get my hopes up again, Erzsebet…"

"But perhaps Our Lord has finally found your daughter, my granddaughter!" She looked about ready to cry.

The younger woman scoffed and rubbed her temples. "It would not be a miracle that would bring her back, it would be her choice. Her personal choice. I've been waiting ten years for God to return my daughter, and I've wasted that many years clinging to foolish hope and prayer." Maria turned on her heel to return to the fireplace where a hearty stew was simmering, leaving the older woman to sigh in sadness. _'If only you had kept faith…'_

Erzsebet was startled when a loud boom resounded throughout the main hall, the sound of someone using the enormous door knocker. Booted feet made their way to the front entrance, but her hand paused on its way to the handle, quivering in anticipation. What if it really was just some travelers passing through?

She closed her eyes and tugged the heavy wooden door aside. "Salut, Bunica…" The quiet voice said, and Erzsebet fell to her knees, weeping when she recognized the face of her grown-up granddaughter.

Ezio and Federico mostly stood in silence while Ruxandra reunited with her grandmother Erzsebet who kept repeating words that they took to mean "Lord" and "miracle". She appeared quite regal despite her age due to a wrinkle-free mouth and strong brow, and Federico could see how full lips ran in the family. After Erzsebet dried her eyes on the sleeve of her fine gown, she tugged Ruxandra toward the dining hall, and the girl told the brothers to wait for her. They gazed about in austere silence at the magnificence of the fortress.

"Some palazzo…" Ezio commented. "I thought she was exaggerating."

"Si, I can understand now why she would want to stay here with her family." Federico slowly moved forward to examine the portraits lining the grand hall, stopping when he found a painting that consisted of three figures: a mother in a fine gown holding a newborn baby, and a proud-looking man behind them. _'Roxana's father…'_ he instantly knew. He was handsome with golden shoulder-length hair and a rather soft jawline, and deep blue eyes that conveyed much sadness. _'This was probably the last time they were all together…'_

Raised female voices suddenly interrupted his musings and Federico jogged to rejoin his brother. He recognized Ruxandra's demure tone and a louder one with a raspy edge to it that must belong to her mother. After a brief exchange loud sobbing was heard, then their blonde ward returned with watery eyes. "You were right, Ezio… my mother almost did not believe I had truly returned." She shook the remaining tears away. "Come with me, I will show you my home."

In every room or hall intricately carved arches supported the vaulted ceiling. Colorful banners that either supported a rampant lion, raven or fanciful helm alternated until reaching a grand staircase where all three designs were combined into the Hunyadi family crest. More tapestries hung on the walls depicting scenes of fox hunting, falconers and the surrounding landscape. At the top of the stairs was a balcony overlooking the vestibule but Ruxandra didn't give them time to admire all the ornate stonework in its entirety. The brothers followed her down a wide passage and paused when she halted outside a wooden door with bronze hardware. She held her breath as she stepped into her old room.

Everything was coated in a fine layer of dust. From the carved wooden bed and the crushed velvet canopy to a huge armoire whose mirror held a single crack, Ruxandra breathed in the scent of her old life while memories came rushing back. As a little girl her mother would frequently sit in the rocking chair on the other side of her nightstand and tell her magnificent stories of little princesses in other kingdoms. She had wanted nothing more than to find her Prince Charming.

Now she wondered if Federico could be that man, but the image of leaving her family again was stronger. _'I cannot run away again,'_ Ruxandra decided while sitting on the edge of her navy blue bedspread. _'I will not leave Mama and Bunica ever again… We will be together from now on.'_

* * *

For once Federico found his bed too large and too comfortable to sleep. He missed his own room, his own clothes, and his own family. The castle was utterly silent except for the sound of wind wrapping around each pointed tower. Maria had provided the boys with night shirts to sleep in but Federico found his Ottoman trousers more secure, and so peeled back the covers to venture down the hall to Ruxandra's chamber.

"Avanti" he heard from the other side of the door. Federico was greeted by her candle-lit face as a book fell to her lap. "What do you want, messer?"

"I couldn't sleep," the boy partially smiled, taking a seat at the end of her bed. "This place is so strange."

"It is no stranger than Constantinople, I would assume."

"There are far less people here," Federico said. "Maybe that's why." He shuffled a little closer and the girl eyed him suspiciously. "I heard you and your mother talking at supper… Did you discuss my proposal?"

Ruxandra sighed and folded her arms. "No, Federico, we did not speak about that. I have not even been home for a day; I have not even relaxed yet! I will tell her in the morning. After we search for my father's ring."

He made a face. "I thought you knew where it was."

"Do you honestly expect me to remember where I hid such a small object ten years ago?" Her arched eyebrow was more than skeptical. "This place is larger than I recall, so we will have a lot of searching to do!"

By "a lot of searching" Ruxandra meant she, Federico and Ezio separated to search the entire castle because she had no inclination of where the ring might be. She asked her mother about it, but Maria didn't know where her daughter had run off to the day of receiving the heirloom. The trio regrouped in Ruxandra's room, Ezio winded from going up and down each of the tall towers. "Do you have a diary or something written about it?" he suggested with a wheeze.

The girl shook her head. "All I remember is… unrest among the people upon learning that the army of my uncle marching to claim us." Panicked faces flashed through her mind's eye, yet as a little girl she stood like a statue in the foyer while her mother rushed upstairs.

_"Ruxandra!"_ the woman returned with a tiny mahogany box that she pressed into her daughter's smaller hands. _"It was the will of your father that you inherit this ring when you turn thirteen, but the king comes for it now! You must hide this artifact, my daughter, where no one will ever find it. Keep it safe from the world."_

Federico waited patiently for her look of consternation to pass. "Up…" the girl whispered. "My mother brought the ring from one of the towers. I think… my father had a room there." She set off without further word, Ezio and Federico sharing a confused look. They followed the girl to the west wing where the dust was thick as snow. They entered a large, circular room that was lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, the smell of musty paper making their noses itch.

An enormous window gave an uninterrupted view of the lake, and off to the right side of the glass was a closed set of deep violet curtains. Ruxandra pulled half the fabric aside and gasped upon seeing a narrow set of spiral stairs winding upward. "Signori, this way…"

"After you." Ezio held out an arm for his brother who had to turn sideways to follow the girl up the spire. At the top of the steps Ruxandra faced a door. She tried to turn the handle but groaned when she found it locked.

"It needs a key…" she sighed hopelessly. "This must be the secret room of my father, and I have no idea where the key is."

The sigh made Federico frown before glancing around the tight space. His eyes landed on a brick with a familiar symbol on it, although slightly different from how he recalled it. "There…" he pointed. "What's that?"

Ruxandra released a surprised squeak when she spied the engraving of a raven with a ring it its beak. Her short fingernails dug into the stone to free it, then she reached into the space and slowly held up a pronged key. Ezio made a sound of approval as the door clicked open. The trio dashed inside.

The room held no windows and few articles of furniture. There was a desk, a cushioned chair and a shelf with only a few leather tomes to support. Ezio sighed in disappointment. "Well… _this_ is impressive. What are we looking for?"

"Something, anything my father may have left for me to find!" the girl returned. She began rummaging through each drawer of the desk and Federico started flipping through the books; unfortunately they were written in a language he couldn't read. Still, one of them that had an interesting symbol on the front held more diagrams and pictures than words. Federico stopped turning pages when his eyes fell upon a drawing of the same raven that was part of Ruxandra's family crest. It had been sketched upon the corner of the page, but the diagram in the center was what captured his attention.

"Roxana, look at this…" He proffered the book and she leaned forward with interest before snatching it right out of his hand.

"This is it!" she breathed in awe. "This is the ring!" Her initial jovial expression gave way to a furrowed brow.

"What is it?" Ezio wondered. "What does it say?"

The girl cleared her throat nervously and her voice came out wavering. "These are the words of my father… He writes that there is a spirit trapped inside the ring that has been passed down through the women of my family since the time of the Crusades. This spirit is… malevolo."

"It says that?" the younger brother inquired.

Her eyes briefly flicked up. "It says something much worse. Babac writes that… he… knew he would be gone… before… my thirteenth birthday… when I was to inherit the ring." The yellowed paper absorbed a single tear drop. "Babac is sorry that he could not protect Mama and I from his brother, my uncle."

"…Are we in danger?" Federico asked after a moment. "I mean all of us. You, your madre, your nonna… It sounds like your father knew you would find this diary after his death."

"Fratello, qui," Ezio motioned with his head before pressing it against the wall. Federico assumed the same position. "Do you feel that?"

"I feel a breeze," he agreed. "Roxana, there's—" The girl was gone, though. "Roxana?"

She appeared outside the room in a panic. "Come quickly! There are men outside the castle!" Federico stuck the journal in his shirt before squeezing past the girl on the stairs who locked the door and jabbed the key toward him. "He is here for me! Keep this safe from him! Find somewhere to hide, and…" Her eyes pleaded for him to obey. "Do not try to save me."

She nearly shoved the brothers down the stairs and had to pick up the front of her dress to sprint back to the first level. From the balcony Ezio and Federico watched her run to the front door that opened just as she reached for it. "It's him…" the older Auditore muttered. "Matthius."

The man dressed in blue and gold finery entered the castle along with a dozen armored knights. Maria briskly entered the foyer upon hearing all the commotion, though she faltered upon seeing her brother-in-law and his menacing soldiers. She instantly place protective hands upon her daughter's shoulders. "Matthius, what are you doing here?"

He smirked evilly from beneath his red mustache. "Do not concern yourself with my errands, dear Maria. Where is my mother?"

"Erzsebet is at the church, as always…" The dark-haired woman maintained her stoic countenance even in the face of opposition. The King smirked again.

"Good. I do not need her interfering with our… interrogation." Serpentine eyes locked on the girl. "My dear Ruxandra, you have led me on quite a chase. I do not know how you managed to leave Florence without anyone knowing, but I finally learned of your whereabouts from one Giovanni Auditore… Are you acquainted with him?"

The brothers cringed upon hearing their father's name spoken with such malice. Their shared look contained the same fear, one Ruxandra had spoken of to Federico that he hadn't believed. _'Did he hurt my family?'_

"No…" the girl lied with a straight face. "I have no friends in Florence."

The man clapped his hands loudly together. "Great, then no one will be trying to prevent me from extracting the information I need." Maria shouted when one of the knights roughly yanked her away and Matthius placed his cane beneath the girl's chin, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me where my brother's ring is and I will let her go."

"No!" her mother commanded. "Tell him nothing!" Like a lightning bolt the cane struck the side of her head and Maria fell to the floor.

"Mama!" the girl shrieked, glaring icicles at the man. "Pezzo di merda!"

The insult didn't affect the King. "Tell me where the ring is or I will be forced to rend it from your vile mouth."

"Futu-te…" the girl hissed. Ezio snickered up above; some curses were universal.

"Rending it is then!" the man bellowed. "Men, if you would kindly set up my tools in the ballroom…"

Federico felt his heart pounding while he watched Ruxandra be carried out of sight. The King of Hungary and a few knights vanished into the left wing of the castle while several of them went outside before reappearing with two large chests. "We can't help her madre," he whispered, "but maybe we can get word to her nonna."

"How?" Ezio whispered back, completely clueless of what action to take. "We can't leave, there are soldiers all over the grounds."

"Perhaps we don't have to…"

An hour or so later, Erzsebet was permitted to enter her home. She gazed disdainfully at the men who were wandering around without respect— some had even helped themselves to the evening meal and were seated at the long dining table. The older woman meandered through the vestibule, pausing when she heard a strange sound behind her.

Erzsebet picked up the piece of crumpled paper that had seemingly fallen out of the sky. She unfurled it to find a picture of the stairs and an arrow pointing up them, and slowly made her way up to the balcony. "I can't believe that worked," Ezio grinned from the rear of the room. Federico stuck his head out and waved to catch the matron's attention. She approached with a relieved expression.

"Salut, Madonna…" Federico fidgeted nervously knowing she couldn't understand him. "Roxana… We want to help her…"

"If you have a plan in mind, young man, I would like to hear it."

"You… speak Italian?" he gawked. "How?"

Erzsebet gave the same mischievous smile as her granddaughter. "I am an agent of God, young man. All Catholics must go to Rome at least once in their life."

"Ah, I see," the boy chuckled. "Well, I am Federico Auditore and this is my brother Ezio. We journeyed with Roxana from Firenze so she could give us something to take to our father, but now that her uncle is here… we are at a loss."

"As am I, young sir." Her hazel eyes grew clouded when she sighed. "But you are looking for the ring that has been in our family for several centuries, da?"

Federico laughed sheepishly. "Si, but how did you know?"

"I may be getting on in years, but my mind is as sharp as that sword on your side!" Erzsebet winked. "Ten years ago when the people of this village sought to rebel against my son, the new king, Maria gave the ring to my granddaughter too early. Thirteen is the age when it is passed on, but as I had no daughters, I gave it to my oldest son, Laszlo, Ruxandra's father." Sadness blanketed her visage. "Of course he told Matthius all about it, and as _he_ was beloved by King Ladislaus he shared everything he knew. Thus began a great search across our lands for texts describing the ring and its history, and of course the artifact itself."

"When Ladislaus had my eldest son murdered, I knew there was corruption in Hungary, so I brought Maria and her newborn baby here. Transylvania has been our home for almost twenty years, but Ruxandra has been gone for half of them. It brings me great relief knowing you two fine gentlemen protected and returned her to us… yet, the fear lingered in my heart that Matthius would come for her, to find out where she hid the ring and obtain it for himself." Erzsebet placed a quivering hand on Federico's shoulder. "I beg of you… you _must_ find it before my vile son! She was a little girl when she hid it, so it cannot be very far out of reach."

Federico and Ezio managed to remain undetected into the night even though knights started patrolling the entire fortress. After the moon had risen the patrols stopped, so the brothers began their search by candlelight, checking the contents of every room and feeling for any loose stones in the floor and walls.

Then the screams made their hair stand on end. Federico felt his hands grow clammy upon the realization that the cries of pain belonged to Ruxandra, and Ezio knew it as well, for he rushed to rejoin his brother. "He's torturing her…" the short-haired boy muttered. "He won't kill her until she tells him where the ring is."

"Then let us find it and save her!" Ezio fervently suggested. They scoured the studies, the libraries, the unused bedrooms. They looked in every drawer and chest, beneath tables and in sconces. The hours ticked by and each time a shrill cry resounded throughout the Hunyadi Castle, Federico cringed. _'I'll free you, Roxana, as soon as we find it…'_

Ezio sighed in defeat, holding out empty palms. "I give up, fratello. This isn't our home, we know nothing about it." He slumped against the railing while Federico paced upon the rug. "Roxana doesn't remember where she put it, Maria doesn't know what she did with it, and her nonna wasn't even here. All we have is memories of something that probably no longer exists."

The pacing faltered. "Memories…" he mumbled, "of someone who no longer exists…" He gripped Ezio by the collar of his shirt and hoisted him to his feet, earning a garbled protest.

"Che cazzo?" he squawked. But Federico was already skimming the stairs leading to the main hall. Ezio grabbed a candle before chasing after him, glancing around to make sure the corridor was free of knights. He found his brother standing before the painting of Ruxandra as a baby with her parents.

Federico hefted the heavy frame and canvas off the wall, straining to do so. When he put it down on the cold stone floor, the slight clink of something falling made his pulse quicken. Ezio reached behind the gilt frame, gasping when his fingers alighted upon a piece of gold metal. In the light of the flickering candle, the brothers stared silently at the object responsible for so much suffering.


	9. Chapter 8: Revival

**_Translations_**  
_Scusa tanto: I apologize_  
_Porcco: pig_  
_Calatoria in siguranta: safe journey (R)_  
_Noroc: good luck (R)_  
_Aiuto: help!_  
_Arresto: stop_  
_Tesora: treasure_  
_Dute dracul: go to hell (R)_  
_Lo spirito di: the spirit of_  
_Aspetta un momento: wait a moment_

* * *

Chapter Eight

Revival

The pain my ancestor endured lingered long after I awoke from the Animus. It felt like someone had taken a giant cheese grater to my back, yet each time I stared at myself in the mirror all I saw was plain freckled skin. That wasn't even the worst part of my session. When I returned to the present I asked Shaun for a bottle of water, but he just stared at me like I was a stranger.

"What?" I demanded, not entertained in the least. "Isn't there any water left?" Rebecca too rotated in her chair to frown at me. "What?!"

"Dee, we don't know what you're saying," the Englishman said as plain as day.

I wrinkled my nose in annoyance. "What are talking about? You just spoke to me in English." Leave it to Desmond to appear with the one thing I wanted most in hand. He quirked an eyebrow after taking a swig of water.

"That's the language of her ancestor," he said to the technicians, "Romanian."

"Romanian?" I scoffed. "I'm speaking perfect English, you morons!" Shaun startled me by shoving a strange device in my face. "What's that? What are you doing?"

"It _is_ Romanian," he agreed, and Desmond's head bobbed matter-of-factly. "Her original Bleeding Effect."

I froze. "You've got to be joking…" I turned to Rebecca but she gave me a look that held no answers, only pity.

"You can understand me, can't you Dee?" Shaun asked, and I nodded. "We don't have any full linguistic translators like Abstergo, so you'll just have to wait for it to wear off. Sorry."

I sighed and decided to remain silent from then on; there was no point in trying to talk about what I'd learned if no one could understand me. It really felt like my back was bleeding and raw, but touching it revealing no marks or scars. In addition to absorbing the language of my ancestor, I was now absorbing her pain through the Animus as well. I didn't understand that stupid machine at all.

After downing a full sixteen ounces of water I decided it was time to take a shower; my hair felt even oilier than before. I stepped through the circular curtain to examine the contraption, and after a moment I turned a few knobs to produce a stream of hot water.

There were several vials of cleaning products at my disposal so I used a little of each, sighing the longer I stood within the steam. It wasn't so peaceful that I forgot about the outside world, and a pair of approaching shoes made my heart pound in slight fear. "Who's there?"

"Desmond." I could just picture the smirk on his face. If he dared to sneak a peek at me, there would be hell to pay.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I was going to tell you not to use the pink stuff. It made me really itchy."

Oh. Good thing I didn't put any of that in my hair. "Thanks for the warning. Am I still speaking Romanian?"

"Yes," was his amused answer.

"How are you talking to me, then?"

"You forget that I met your ancestor, too. I think she rubbed off on me."

"I see. You're a smart cookie, Desmond."

"You just called me an intelligent biscuit," he snickered, and I almost snorted. How embarrassing. There was a pause. "Listen, Dee… Can I call you Didem? It's prettier to say."

I felt myself blush. "Um, sure, if you really want to…" I ceased untangling my hair and stood facing the faint shadow being cast on the barrier between us.

"I just wanted to find out if we were on the same page, in the Renaissance I mean. Ezio and Federico… what are they doing in your memory?"

"They're looking for the ring. They found Laszlo's diary and he wrote that he knew he would die before Ruxandra grew up."

Desmond coughed nervously. "Yeah, I saw that too… Not that it's really important, but I think he was killed by Templars. I think that King Ladislaus was a Templar and had Ruxandra's dad murdered since he wouldn't tell him where the ring was."

"That makes sense…" I quietly agreed. "If he wanted Soul Edge and knew the ring held the spirit of it, whatever "it" really is, he would have tried getting close to the Hunyadi family."

"Which is why he made Matthius king," Desmond added. "But Matthius was only fourteen when he took the throne, and Ladislaus was seventeen when he died, so they were like best friends or something. The internet says that Ladislaus was poisoned by political enemies."

"Assassins," I instantly thought out loud. "They avenged the murder of Ruxandra's father."

"Yes, exactly," Desmond nodded vigorously. "So that means there was an Order in Hungary, and Laszlo was part of it."

He couldn't see me nodding. "But if there are, or were, Assassins there, why wouldn't they have come to keep the ring safe instead of forcing your ancestors to come all the way from Italy to get it?"

"That's another thing I was thinking about," the man went on excitedly. "Shaun and I have a theory that the Hungarian politicians had every known member of the Order hunted down and killed, and Laszlo Hunyadi was the last."

I could almost see his smile of pride through the thin shield around me. "That's wonderful detective work on your part. Now would you mind handing me a towel? There are none in here." After a second a white cloth flipped over the metal ring above and I dabbed my face dry before snuggly wrapping it around myself. Surprisingly Desmond was facing the other way when I stepped out into the open.

I picked up my clothes and promptly dropped them upon smelling how sweaty they were. "Ugh… are there any extra shirts or pants around here?" Desmond looked at me from the corner of his eye and I grinned. "Haven't you ever been in the same room as a mostly-naked woman?"

"Of course…" he said with a blush. "I had a girlfriend before all this."

"Oh yeah?" My interest was piqued. "What was she like?"

I think I succeeded in unsettling him. "Her name was Jessica… or Juliana… or Jackie… Something with a J."

This time I did snort my laughter. "She must not have been that good of a girlfriend if you don't remember her name. If it makes you feel like less of a loser, I've never had a boyfriend."

Desmond faced me with a smirk. "I do feel like less of a loser, thanks." Together we walked toward the many silver trunks, and he rummaged through one of them before tossing me a white tank top. He reached into another one containing various styles of pants. "What size are you? Zero? Two?"

"Ah ha ha…" I laughed dryly at such flattery. "Try a six. I've got hips and a butt in case you didn't notice."

The look he shot me was conflicted. "I tried not to…" he muttered.

An exasperated sigh escaped. "We're both adults here, Desmond. You are allowed to think I'm attractive."

"Then you're allowed to think I'm devilishly handsome," he returned with upturned lips that _almost_ hid reddened cheeks.

My eyes narrowed as I folded my arms. "Would it matter if I did? I thought you had a thing for Lucy." Ooh, maybe that shouldn't have slipped out. I watched his expression contort several times until it settled on disappointment, then my palms grew sweaty.

"Lucy freed me from Abstergo," Desmond said very tersely. "I feel like I owe her, so I try to help her with anything she needs. That's all."

I should stop talking. I really should. "I've seen the way you look at her. She's pretty, but in an ice queen way. Her smiles never seem genuine. I don't trust people like that."

"Well, if I really had a "thing" for her, your opinion wouldn't matter to me, would it?" He tossed a pair of jeans into my arms. "Get dressed."

Knowing I had struck a nerve make me cringe. Why couldn't I just let things go instead of pushing people to their limits? I guess that was something my lifestyle was responsible for— if you want something bad enough you can't just give up. I was glad no one was around to see the way my face flushed at that revelation: I liked Desmond. He really _was_ handsome and probably quite fit beneath his baggy clothes. But the thing I found most attractive was his graceful acceptance of this crazy situation. He used to think he was a regular, boring guy just like I believed I was nobody of consequence, but according to Abstergo and the Assassins, we were very important people.

For an hour or so I just sat on one of the cots watching everyone go about their routines. Rebecca seemed glued to her chair while she rapidly typed in response to a stream of data. Occasionally Shaun left his computer to consult with her and I wondered what he was researching. Lucy moved from her laptop to other equipment to the outside world, keeping a watchful eye over everything.

It finally dawned on me that I really was a complete stranger to these events. I wasn't a real Assassin. Maybe my father was somehow associated with them, but not me. And from the look of things in the Renaissance, it seemed my ancestor was just a tool standing between the Italian Order and some relic they wanted from Transylvania. Ruxandra must not have been that important if her name had been lost to history.

Watching her interact with Desmond's relatives almost seemed like an adventure-romance movie. Federico Auditore, though handsome, was trying his darndest to get into her pants, but she didn't believe in sex before marriage. So he proposed to her in the most unserious manner possible. That guy had gall if he thought a charming smile and roving hands were all he needed to get her naked. Usually there are these important things called emotions that should be involved before sex.

_'Except in your case'_ my conscience just had to remind me. Yes, yes, I know I just gave it away to some guy when I was drunk. Shut up. That doesn't mean I never tried to be in a serious relationship. There were plenty of nice guys in San Francisco, just none who I had a real emotional connection with. But I was starting to feel like I might have one with Desmond.

* * *

Ezio simply stared at the ring that simultaneously froze and burned his palm. He could tell the band was pure gold by its weight and sheen in the candlelight, and it could almost have been a man's ring except for the arabesque curls around the setting. The large oval-shaped ruby had a mirror-like face that seemed to gleam like an eye the longer he gazed into its sanguine depths.

Federico too felt a strange aura emanating from the tiny object that was over three hundred years old. He could no longer tell if time was still passing them by; all he wanted to do was drown in the facets of the red gem. _'Drowning… Death…'_ he thought with a shake of his head. "Ezio, it _is_ malevolo." He cupped a hand over his brother's palm and received a look filled with anger. "We can't keep it here."

"Why not?" the boy asked rather harshly. "It will give me the strength to help Roxana… by killing her uncle."

Federico blinked in astonishment. "What are you saying? Certainly he is a vile man, but I believe we could learn much by leaving him alive."

"Listen to yourself…" Ezio scoffed, "Matthius is torturing the woman you love, and you want to let him _live?_ I say we slay him in his own home and send his head back to Hungary!" Hard eyes darted between Federico's raised hands and his concerned visage.

"Fratellino, this isn't you speaking… see reason instead of violence. Our task was to get this ring and return it to our father, don't you remember?"

"He also told us to protect Roxana, and right now she's through those doors being beat to death! You aren't the only one who is allowed to have feelings for her, fratello." Ezio's cold eyes were not his own, but the words certainly sounded sincere.

"Scusa tanto, Ezio. I didn't know…"

"That's because you're a selfish porcco!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide. The ring slipped out of his palm and in that instant Ezio's countenance changed back to the one most familiar. He planted a hand on his temple and groaned. "Merda, what did I say to you?"

Federico shook his head. "They weren't your words, Ezio. It's all right. This thing doesn't belong in the hands of anyone… we must return it to Firenze."

"Agreed," the younger brother nodded. "What about Roxana? Should we try to free her?"

Federico had already mused over this very question. "Is it even possible? She is surrounded by knights, and I cannot even imagine what kinds of vile instruments Matthius has at his disposal."

"You cannot save her," came the voice of someone behind them. The brothers spun to face Erzsebet who looked very haggard. "My son will not let her go until she has told him where to find the ring." She cast her eyes downward at the glinting piece of jewelry. "But perhaps he will leave once discovering it is not here. Take this artifact far away from us, please…"

So the brothers did just that. Erzsebet showed them a secret tunnel leading to the stables where the Arabians had found refuge and she even gave them some provisions. "I'll come back for her," Federico stated from his saddle. "I love her."

"I know," the older woman smiled ruefully from below. "And love is what this world needs to become right in the eyes of Our Lord once again. Călătoria în siguranţă, gentlemen. Noroc."

* * *

Three days of hard riding brought the brothers to the familiar sight of Venice, the finely-dressed populace making way for dirty man and steed. Federico checked his breast pocket again to make sure the pouch holding the ring was still there, but he could breathe easy. They sold their horses for a hefty profit to a pair of breed enthusiasts and were able to buy new clothes and a hotel room for the night since they had rarely slept along the road.

Ezio did most of the talking since Federico devoted his every waking thought to planning his return to Ruxandra. Were her cries of agony still filling the castle or had Matthius resorted to other forms of torture, perhaps of the psychological variety? It doubly pained him to know that she was being tormented for information she could no longer recall; beating a dead horse, if you will.

He hoped to God she hadn't given in to her wounds. She was a small girl— there wasn't an abundance of blood in her body. Federico gritted his teeth to drive out all the what-if's, all the grotesque images his mind conjured. A soft hissing laugh filled his mind with self-doubt, uttering things like "you are weak without me" and "you need me to save her".

"Shut up…" he murmured to none but his own ears. "I _will_ return to her." But the voice of the ring found one of the last memories of Ruxandra to use against him. _"Do not try to save me…"_ she had said. Why not? Why would she tell him that knowing her uncle had come to extract information from her by force? Federico wracked his mind for answers, yet all he discovered were more questions.

The brothers were dealt another blow when they finally returned to Florence and discovered their family palazzo had been decimated; it appeared fire had destroyed everything they once held dear. Federico passively sat on the front step while Ezio searched for any clues as to what exactly had happened. Up on the roof he discovered a single white feather embedded in the stone with a piece of paper secured beneath it. "Federico!" he called down, "A letter from Father!"

The note stated that Giovanni had fled to Monteriggioni and that Firenze was not a safe place for them to be. After Matthius' lockdown on the city to locate his niece, his men had forcefully interrogated the head of every family, and under the threat of losing his wife and children Giovanni admitted that Ruxandra had returned to her homeland. Although Matthius and most of his knights journeyed to Transylvania, he had left a battalion of soldiers in the city under the leadership of a cruel man named Ambrus Meszaros.

So with another weary sigh, the brothers managed to beg their way onto a merchant cart heading to Monteriggioni. Even though it was a few day's trip it felt like an eon, especially when thoughts of Ruxandra weighed heavily on Federico's mind. Wide gates opened for them, then the duo slowly plodded toward Villa Auditore. A cry went up from the guards and Giovanni rushed to meet his sons at the bottom of the steps.

"Dio mio, look at you…" His concerned and weary visage met exhaustion and apathy. "Welcome back, my sons. Do you have it?" Federico summoned the strength to remove the pouch from his doublet, proffering it weakly for Giovanni to accept. "Praise your strength," he said after a moment, then he placed one hand on each of their shoulders to lead them inside.

After becoming revitalized thanks to a hearty meal and fresh strawberry wine, Ezio told their father about their travels. Federico listened in austere silence until he got to the part about Matthius arriving at Castle Hunyad to claim the relic, then he slammed a fist on the table so hard the silverware jumped. "You're not even going to mention how she is enduring his torture as we speak?!" His voice echoed through the hall while two sets of brown eyes stared up nervously. "We need to go back for her!"

After a moment Ezio's mouth turned up at one corner. "Oh yes, it seems my dear brother has fallen madly in love with Roxana."

Giovanni didn't seem surprised. "Is that true, son? Do you love her?"

"Yes!" he bellowed again so the world would know, then his tone became softer. "Si, Father, I do… I want to make her my wife."

"Would you like to go back to Transylvania to bring her here?"

Before he could answer, Ezio interrupted. "Roxana wants to stay with her family, her madre and nonna. They're all she has left. It would be selfish of him to separate them."

Federico bristled at the remark. "I already proposed to her, but she did not give me an answer… If Matthius had not arrived, she would have." He looked directly at his father. "Where is Mother? I want to speak with her."

A pained expression instantly claimed his countenance as though Federico's words were a dagger in his heart. Ezio frowned and stood up from his chair. "Gone…" Giovanni whispered from behind his hands, "Maria, Claudia, and Petruccio… I lost them. I lost them and failed you at the same time, my sons. As the guardian of this family, I failed…"

"W-what do you mean, Father?" the younger boy stammered. "Surely you can't mean… they are…"

"Dead," Federico blandly finished. "They are dead. The King's men killed them, didn't they? When the inquisitions began like you stated in your note, Matthius tortured you until you told him that we had taken her away. Did he murder them before or after torching our home?"

Giovanni glanced up into his vengeful gaze. "It matters not… there is nothing we can do to bring them back, Federico. Killing Roxana's uncle will not return your mother to my arms, or my daughter, or my youngest child. I can give no apology that will fill the void in our hearts."

"But there must be something we can do to avenge them!" That was all Ezio managed to get out before his sibling released a roar of frustration, anger and despair that made the servants' hair stand on end. As it reverberated through the halls of the villa, the dining room became filled with sobbing instead. Giovanni left his place to hold the boy in a tight embrace that quickly included Ezio.

"There is a solution to this injustice," the Auditore patriarch said through his own tears. "There are people who right such wrongs in the world, and you two will become like them, like me. This way of life is not an easy one, but humanity needs us. The weak need men like you to defend them. You will become strong, my sons… this I promise you."

* * *

—SYNCHRONIZATION LOST. . . .FAST FORWARDING MEMORY TO A MORE RECENT ONE—

* * *

Ezio yawned and stretched from his position atop the Basilica di San Pietro in the Castello district. He decided he had grown to love the city in the couple weeks he'd been stationed there to track the movements of a notorious assailant whom the Order now knew to be specifically targeting clergymen.

This rogue assassin always left several tell-tale signs at each murder scene: a single stab wound to the jugular, a pale orange rose on the corpse, and the word "repent" written in blood beneath the victim's head. Ezio found it highly amusing that a holy man would hunt down his own kind, but there was always a personal motive behind these types of crimes.

Needless to say the people of Venice were on edge. Nobody ventured outside at night which meant Ezio didn't need to scan an entire crowd of commoners, he just had to keep an eye out for suspicious characters. His attention returned to the street when a door closed and he saw a figure in crisp white robes mutter a prayer before cautiously leaving the sanctity of the building.

Booted feet followed the man across a sea of red clay tiles, making nary a sound. A dense mist from the harbor had blanketed the city, but Ezio's keen eyesight separated the figure from every cloud and shadow. The priest approached a bridge, yet did not cross it. Instead he paused to turn toward the building the Assassin was perched upon.

"Who's there?" his nervous voice rang out in the quiet night. Ezio tried to lean forward to see what he saw, but an awning blockaded the view.

"Please, your holiness…" A hunched figure hobbled out into the street. "I am starving and weak… Does a man of God have any bread to spare?"

Ezio released his anxious breath and sighed; it was just a beggar woman. The priest glanced at the other side of the bridge as the only other person in existence crept closer. His shoulders relaxed and he shuffled forward slightly. "Mi dispiace, I have nothing on me. I am going home, though… I can give you something then."

"Oh, grazie," the woman croaked, and the pair set off together. Ezio swung across the water by means of a bannered line strung between two towers, landing in an alley on the other side. He had a funny feeling about these two.

"Here we are," the priest said after withdrawing a house key from his robe. "Would you like to come in out of the cold?"

"I do not want to intrude," the woman replied. Her dark cloak obscured her face. Ezio realized, though, that this priest was actually a decent one. His charity would go a long way in the eyes of God.

"You don't have any coins, do you?" the man asked with a slight smirk. "How are you going to pay me for my generosity?" Maybe he wasn't such a good Catholic.

"Pay you?" the beggar repeated in a stunned manner. "I… I thought…"

The priest took a menacing step toward her and she shrunk back. He grabbed her roughly by the arms. "Since you have no money, you can pay by joining me in bed."

Ezio made a face of disgust. He really should intervene; the woman struggled to free herself but was being tugged into the priest's home against her will. "Aiuto!" she hoarsely called out, but of course no one was around to hear her. He had just taken a single step forward to the edge of the street when the priest suddenly stilled, his eyes wide and unbelieving. When he crumpled to the ground and Ezio saw blood staining the collar of his robes, his heart nearly stopped beating.

The woman dipped two fingers into the pool of warm red liquid before lifting her attacker's head to scrawl something on his front step. Then she stood, withdrew a rose from her cloak, and tossed it onto the man's chest. "Enjoy Hell…" she muttered before sprinting away from the scene of the crime.

Ezio was jarred back into action as she began to fade into the mist. "Hey you!" he shouted, "Stop right there!" For a split second the woman paused, turning slightly to face him though not enough to make out any features. Ezio chased after the dark violet cape but admittedly he was hard-pressed to keep pace. "Arresto!" he commanded again.

The woman did pause, then, to spin around with something in hand. Ezio skidded to a halt, falling backward as the menacing tip of an arrow sliced through the space where his head had just been. He quickly plucked a throwing knife from his baldric to return fire, his lips separating in triumph when the blade embedded itself in her upper thigh. She cried out in pain but did not fall, even trying to limp away while he scrambled to his feet.

Ezio grabbed the end of her cloak and tugged, effectively placing the woman on her back. He moved to stand before her with smug confidence. He took in the sight of her attire which consisted of a white blouse beneath a brocade bodice, a belt that supported a dagger, some rope and a quiver of arrows, and knee-high chestnut leather boots. Ezio was slightly jealous of such fine footwear.

"There is no escape from me, Madonna," he grinned. "You're a wanted murderer and an enemy of the clergy. I'm going to hand you over to officers of the law, and you will be punished for your crimes."

"What are _they_ going to do?" she spat, cringing under the weight of his foot on her bleeding leg. "There is no evidence to convict me."

Ezio wagged his finger. "I just witnessed you kill that man, tesora. My word will be enough."

Her lips set into a thin line, the only facial feature visible. They were pale pink and very plump, and Ezio couldn't prevent licking his own lips. "If the only one who saw me was you…" her cool voice slowly stated, "all I need do is make certain you cannot talk." With that she drew the unrestrained knee to her chest and kicked out, her foot sinking squarely into Ezio's gut.

"Oomph!" He found himself falling over again, the woman simultaneously propelling herself forward with her good leg. When his back hit stone and she landed atop his chest, a piece of metal shot out from beneath her right wrist that she jabbed at his face. Ezio's eyes grew wide when he recognized his own weapon being used against him and managed to turn so that the sharp edge of her Hidden Blade only scratched his cheek.

"Dute dracul!" the woman had shouted before attempting to stab Ezio through his eye socket. When she missed her mouth dropped open which gave him the opportunity to shove her off. The hood flew back to reveal prominent cheek bones, a slim nose, and bright blue eyes. Ezio glimpsed a long golden braid behind her back, and his blood suddenly felt robbed of heat.

"Madre di Dio…" he breathed in awe while abruptly sitting forward. "Lo spirito di Roxana Hunedora?"

She faced him with half surprise, half contempt. "In the flesh," she uttered before retrieving her dropped bow. She then managed to hobble away at an impressive rate, gripping the handle of the throwing knife in her thigh.

"Aspetta un momento!" Ezio shouted. "Come back, Roxana!" But she was gone. If she had heard him she didn't recognize his voice and left the Assassin in pain in the middle of the street. He felt the back of his head throbbing while blood slowly dribbled down his cheek, so with a groan he righted himself and promptly made his way to the studio of Leonardo da' Vinci.

"What happened to you?" the well-dressed artist inquired after allowing Ezio into his abode. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I think I have…" the man in white rasped. He cleared his throat while slumping into a sofa before the fireplace. "Do you remember several years ago when my brother and I arrived at your studio in Firenze with this—" he held up his right arm that wore the original broken Hidden Blade, since Federico had grown too muscular to wear it, "—and we had a girl in a red dress with us?"

"Si, I recall that day very clearly." Leonardo handed his friend a cup of red wine. "She was quite pretty… I wanted to paint her." Ezio chuckled but groaned when a painful spike shot through his head. "It seems you're bleeding," the artist flippantly remarked, vanishing to fetch some antiseptic and gauze.

"Courtesy of the ghost of that girl," the Assassin winced. "She is the one responsible for the murders of the church officials. I tried to talk to her… Well, I _attacked_ first…" Leonardo's expression let him know he wasn't surprised in the least. "But she shot at me with an arrow, then tried to stab me with her own blade!" He held up the engraved bracer again.

"But… it is a unique weapon, so how could she have one? And are you certain it was the same girl?"

"I'm positive," Ezio said while cringing at his stinging scalp. "It was Roxana Hunedora."

Leonardo's treatment faltered. "Wasn't that the girl you left in Transylvania?"

The Assassin sighed deeply. "Si, the same. Last time I saw her she had told us to find that infernal ring before her uncle got his hands on it, and she told Federico… not to save her." Ezio tried to recall everything he knew about Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi, but he could really only picture her beautiful, innocent face. The way she had glared at him made him shudder. He likened that boreal gaze to standing naked in a snowstorm. There was nothing recognizable in her eyes, only cunning, fervor and malice, a frightening combination.

* * *

After his head and face ceased bleeding, Ezio decided to ride home to Monteriggioni. He was at war with himself regarding revealing Ruxandra's proximity to Federico; he didn't even know if his brother still had feelings for her. Their excursion to Transylvania had occurred almost five years ago, so perhaps Federico had forgotten all about her.

Ezio arrived at Villa Auditore in the early morning, home base for the Assassins in Italy. Typically while Giovanni, Mario and Ezio were away on business, Federico managed absolutely everything. He had a talent for numbers and memorizing names and faces, so he was in charge of finances and dispatch orders. After their initiation into the Order, Federico devoted himself whole-heartedly to tracking down the scattered remains of Altair's Codex, a task his uncle Mario was glad to relinquish.

It became revealed that retrieving the Ring of Hunyad had been but a trial decreed by the Order. Federico was so outraged upon hearing this that he spoke to no one, not even Ezio, for a whole month. Afterward he began training several hours a day, honing his fencing skills and exercising rigorously. He and Ezio had been of similar build before, but now the strength of his arm defeated Uncle Mario in contest. Federico also spent time studying geography, linguistics, history and mythology. He became an expert in Assassin lore and spearheaded the movement to actively recover Codex pages from the Templars.

Ezio found his brother, as usual, leaning over his desk opposite Mario's vacant one. The spaces between the Codex map on the wall were becoming fewer, but for the past couple months they hadn't been any new leads. However, news was beginning to trickle in from their covert agents of a Templar expedition to locate a new artifact with awesome power. Following their attainment of the Ring of Hunyad, there had been no disturbances from Matthius Corvinus of Hungary.

"You need to take a break," the man in the white hood smiled. "Stretch your legs, get some fresh air."

"I'll do so after translating this page of Hunyadi's journal," Federico flatly replied.

His words made Ezio grimace. "You are _still_ working through that thing, after all these years? What use has it been to us, really? We've learned nothing from the writings of a dead man."

"Laszlo Hunyadi wasn't just any man; he was an Assassin, like us." Federico didn't even glance up.

"Scusi, a dead _Assassin_," his brother scoffed. "We prevented that creepy family heirloom of his from falling into the wrong hands, so why do you waste time reading about his life?"

Federico shut the diary with a grunt of annoyance, directing his piercing brown eyes toward Ezio. The rest of his features had become pointed over the years, especially now that his hair was cut very short. "It reminds me of _her_, va bene? Now leave me in peace."

"So you _do_ still think about Roxana?" Ezio dared to ask with a knowing smirk. His brother nodded curtly. "Then I have some news I think you would like to hear…"

"Come out with it," his sibling sighed.

"While in Venezia last night, I saw her. She is the one who has been killing members of the church!"

Federico's eyes narrowed to harsh slits. "Do you think me a fool, fratellino?" he asked after a moment. It was more of a threat than a question. "I congratulate you for fabricating such a story."

"I'm not lying!" Ezio protested by adamantly planting his hands on the desk. "I saw her! She gave me this!" He pointed to the gash on his cheek, earning a skeptical eyebrow. "I saw a beggar woman approach a priest. He led her to his home, but instead of giving charity he wanted figa. So she killed him, the lustful priest! I tried to stop her, but she attacked me! She was really quite capable." He paused for a moment. "Oh! And she has one of these." Ezio triggered his Hidden Blade while grinning triumphantly.

Federico only offered a piteous gaze. "Let's say I believe you… The killings have been taking place for over a month, and only targeting men of God would make her some kind of zealot."

"Exactly, because all the men were sinners! Half of them were known to frequent La Rosa Della Virtu bordello. Roxana was religious, as you recall."

Of course Federico recalled her beliefs— that was why she hadn't succumbed to his charms. Now he had more important things to focus on than spending nights with women. The story did seem to fit her modus operandi, though: "Repent" written in blood beneath her victim's heads was an obvious testament to her own faith. And if she truly had a Hidden Blade, she could deliver fatal blows with a single thrust. But what about the rose? Ezio had the sense to bring back the flower from her latest victim, which he withdrew from his pouch to place on the desk.

Federico's fingers lightly played upon the thorny stem. Instead of a red or white rose, this one was pale orange. He knew nothing of the symbolism of flowers, but as an artist, Leonardo surely did. With that idea in mind, Federico traveled to Venice with his brother who began to yawn every minute until they reached Leonardo's workshop in the late afternoon. "Back so soon?" the fair-haired man grinned, inviting the brothers in. "It has been some time since I saw you last, Federico Auditore."

"Likewise," he replied with a smile. Ezio was already asleep on the sofa. "I've come with what I hope is a simple question…" He produced the wilting flower and Leonardo cocked an eyebrow. "What does the color of this rose mean?"

The artist hummed, gingerly removing the blossom from his friend's hand. "A pale orange bloom… hmm…" He eyed a droplet of blood on one of the petals. "Where did this come from?"

"Venezia's most recent corpse," Federico provided. "We believe we've discovered who the murderer is."

"Si, Ezio tells me it is a _woman_, someone you are acquainted with." Leonardo's countenance softened. "An orange rose indicates desire, but this is a gentle hue akin to the color of a peach. Pale orange conveys modesty." The memory of eating a peach while bound for Constantinople flashed through Federico's mind. "Given the situation in which this rose was discovered, it would seem that this woman would like to reunite with you."

Federico nodded slowly in acceptance of the interpretation. "Very well. It seems I have a meeting with an old flame."


	10. Chapter 9: Reverie

_First new chapter in, what, four months? That's how long I haven't had internet! Do I even still have readers? If so I'd appreciate a comment to let me know you're still interested :)_

_**Translations**_  
_Mia bella: my beauty_  
_Nipote: nephew_  
_Zio: uncle_

* * *

Chapter Nine

Reverie

While Ezio remained asleep in front of Leonardo's fireplace his elder brother entered the stream of people passing by the workshop, lifting the pointed cowl to shadow his face. Federico listened intently to their gossip as he drifted from the market to Ponte di Rialto to Squero di San Trovaso, but after an hour of mindless chatter he realized he should be investigating the places the murderess was most likely to be found: houses of God.

The Assassin made his way to the modest church where the most recent dead priest had been a parishioner. There was already a memorial of flowers surrounding the building that Federico slowed to examine. By the front entrance, in plain sight, he spied a bouquet of peach-colored roses and was unable to prevent a half-smile from turning his lips. Sniffing the bouquet revealed that it was very fresh, perhaps cut this morning, and had been placed recently, but more interesting was a little card hidden among the petals that only close inspection would have revealed.

Glancing around, Federico withdrew the note before replacing the blossoms. On it in very nice handwriting was an address, so with a sigh the man plunged into the populace again. After circling the same block a few times he realized he needed to take a gondola to reach his destination, and the gondolier informed him that the address belonged to an exclusive hotel. "Your friend wants you to meet them in room twelve which is on the third floor," the man with a thin mustache informed his patron as he navigated the maze of canals.

"Grazie," Federico nodded once arriving at a jetty that led to a petal-covered courtyard. He ascended stone steps with trepidation growing in his stomach. Part of him wanted to believe Ruxandra would be waiting at the end of this breadcrumb trail, but his logical mind knew it could be a trap. The Assassins were not without their enemies, after all, and it was very possible the Curia in Rome believed they were the ones behind the murders.

Federico halted outside the entrance to room twelve. It was directly in the center of the corridor and halfway between the ground and the top of the building, making his chances of quick escape completely equal on all accounts. He raised his fist to pound on the wooden portal, then thought better of it and barged right into the room instead. Although he had been calm before he now felt his nerves twitching in response to the eerie silence and apparent vacancy of the suite.

"I've come, like you wanted," he decided to announce. "I'm not angry at you for killing members of the church; I know their deaths were justified in your mind. If you would show yourself, tell me why you did it and I promise no harm will come to you." Federico's voice resonated in the silent abode, yet no one appeared or said anything in return. He moved from the sitting area into the bedroom, slowly, like a great cat hunting its quarry. His short boots made no sound upon the floor as he scanned each corner of the room, but it seemed no one had been there for a long time.

Except… someone _had_ slept in the bed, recently in fact. Federico realized this when he noticed a bodily indent in the silk top sheet, and sniffing the pillow informed his senses that the tenant was indeed a woman. His heart rate instantly increased and his eyelids fluttered in remembrance of Ruxandra who had always smelled like roses, apples and wine. One of those ingredients was now much stronger than the others but the scent still reawakened feelings he had been a stranger to for several years, the most overwhelming of which was desire. A sweat broke out on the backs of his hands and Federico gripped the cool carved wooden bed frame to steady himself.

His reverie was interrupted by the sudden sound of water dripping. Although slight his keen ears caught it, jerking his head toward a curtain at one side of the room. Alarm bells were telling him that he was walking directly into a trap; all his Assassin intuition kept reminding him to fully analyze the situation first, not stride directly into danger. Federico stood on the other side of the curtain for a brief, tense moment before squeezing his eyes shut as he shoved the fabric aside.

"…Well," a perturbed feminine voice said after a short silence, "this was definitely not how I expected to introduce myself to you."

The Assassin dared crack open one eye to put a face to the speaker; however, as soon as he glimpsed bare feet leading to bare calves connected to bare thighs and derrière— _'Dio mio…'_ —he hurriedly closed it. The woman padded across the floor without a sound, something he took notice of. He cleared his throat and fixated his gaze on the rug beneath the bathtub. "You are the one who has been slaying church members of Venezia?" His tone held an unintended note of disbelief which the woman smirked at.

"Who wants to know?" she smoothly replied.

"I do."

"And who are _you_, Messer?"

The accent manifesting itself in the last word forced Federico to look at her, but this time she was covered by a robe and stared back with a curious eyebrow. Ezio had been right— it _was_ Ruxandra. But if he did not already have a name to match her face, he would have thought the girl— _'Woman… She's all woman now'_ —a queen from a foreign land.

The soft, spritely face had been replaced by harsher angles and milky, pale skin that exuded a frosty aura. Her eyes were as blue as the summer sky but glistened with treacherous facets that could drown a man if he gazed into them for too long. Her long hair was as cornsilk that begged to be touch— it was the only soft thing about her now. Cherry lips were as succulent and inviting as he remembered.

Ruxandra stood unflinching as she felt the Assassin's eyes studying her form even though she could not see them. It had been a full minute since her inquiry regarding his identity and his lips, which were pressed in a thin line, had yet to offer a name. "I know who you are…" she finally said with a coy grin that showed teeth when the man inhaled sharply. "You are an _asasin_. You are part of the brotherhood that rules the city of Monteriggioni. Mario Auditore is your Grand Master, and it is he who I would like to meet."

Federico was at a loss for a response. How could she possibly know all this? One answer presented itself based on information again supplied by Ezio: _"she has a Hidden Blade"._ Only Assassins carried such weapons and Leonardo had personally built the one encircling his arm; it was impossible he had provided Ruxandra with the instrument that had cut his brother's face. "Show it to me…" he demanded, "the thing that provided such knowledge of our Order." He followed her into the bedroom and waited while she opened one of the drawers of an armoire. Ruxandra hesitated before proffering the bracer.

The leather looked devoid of major wear, but upon closer inspection Federico noticed how the outlines of the etched and tooled designs were cracking. Three broad straps held the sheath of the Hidden Blade in place and triggering it made him hum with interest, for the shaft was thin and slightly curved at the base. He turned it over again to examine the stylized triangular symbol of the Assassin Order that rested between a set of broad wings.

"Where did you get this?" the man needed to know. He avoided meeting Ruxandra's gaze.

"I inherited it from my father," she replied matter-of-factly. "He was an asasin, like you." Her eyes narrowed to sharp slits as Federico slowly lowered the weapon.

"How could you know that… your father is _dead_."

_There_ was a familiar expression– Ruxandra's aghast countenance showed him exactly what was going through her mind as her jaw hung open uselessly. Slowly she began to shake her head and back away from the man, bumping into the dresser. "Wh-who are you?" she stammered.

Federico desperately wanted to reveal himself to the woman who once upon a time could have been his bride. He had had many dreams of walking through fields with her, sharing elegant meals with her, waking up beside her and… making love to her. But that was in a past life– he was an Assassin now, an important one at that, and a fine detective. In the interest of learning her secrets it was prudent that she remain oblivious to his identity… for now.

"I am one who has come to take you to the Grand Master," Federico finally said. "We have questions for you, and we can't have you killing any more innocents."

The woman almost snorted. "Innocents! Hardly… The men I slew were all guilty of sin."

"It is not your place to judge them," Federico countered.

Blue eyes flashed. "You are correct… It is the duty of an _asasin_ to bring evil men to justice."

"And I suppose that is what you think you are." Thankfully over the years Federico had grown quite competent at verbal sparring, having had many disagreements with his brother. Ruxandra wasn't about to win this contest of wit. Her look of hurt made him feel just a bit guilty, however, and his tone softened. "Perhaps you can prove yourself useful to us."

A scoff was his answer. "Your master will _beg_ me to join you once he hears what I have to say."

* * *

Leonardo gently shook his guest awake, but Ezio didn't wake gently. He sat up flailing and sputtering which earned laughs from the three other occupants of the room. "Did you find her?" he groggily inquired of his brother, who stepped aside to reveal Ruxandra. She faced him with a scowl and crossed arms and he couldn't help but leer. "We meet again, mia bella."

"Say that again if you want a matching scar on your other cheek," the woman hissed. "The great Leonardo da' Vinci I recognize, but who are you?"

"I am Ez—" Federico shook his head as a warning. "Err… a mere courier," he carefully finished, earning a nod of acceptance. Ruxandra slowly released an annoyed breath.

"Fine… It does not matter to me who you are. The only person I am interested in meeting is your Grand Master. Take me to him."

Ezio's eyebrow arched sky-high. "You are in no position to be ordering _us_ around, signorina. I seem to recall you running away from our last encounter." In the light of the room he got a better view of her armaments which consisted of a blackwood recurve bow strung over her back and a double-wrapped leather belt around her waist that supported several pouches, a length of rope with a mean hook on the end, and a sheathed dagger. The full quiver of arrows rested along her opposite leg and he frowned at the feathered fletching.

'_She looks more like a hunter than one of us…'_ he mused, although her violet cappa acted the same way as their hoods, shielding her face while they rode along the road to Monteriggioni. Ruxandra insisted on having her own horse because she wasn't about to degrade herself by riding behind one of the men, a statement that earned a snicker from Ezio. He distinctly remembered the girl pleading them to help her get home which outnumbered the amount of times she said she could do it on her own. Federico was nervous when they reached the front steps of the fortress. He had no idea how his uncle would react and frankly did not want to be in his office if he decided Ruxandra was nothing more than an impudent child. He held his breath before knocking on the double doors.

"Avanti!" the stout man's voice bellowed from within, crushing Federico's last hope that perhaps he was out on a mission. He pushed them open and quickly came to stand in front of the large wooden desk, greeting Mario with a nod that he didn't reciprocate because he quickly rose to his feet upon seeing his female guest. Ezio repressed a knowing smirk as he stood on the other side of Ruxandra. "Nipote, who is this?"

She took the liberty of introducing herself. "Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi," she said with a bow, "I am pleased to finally meet you."

"Mario Auditore," the sturdy man grinned in return. "Please tell me why you've come."

Ruxandra rested most of her weight on one foot, sticking her hip out. "There is an evil plot coming to fruition against your Order. Men from the north are seeking to reclaim an object you so laboriously sought to bring under your protection, and with this relic they would hope to dominate everyone in the Mediterranean and beyond."

Mario's eyes widened in surprise while Federico felt his nerves sinking into his stomach. Slowly, pensively, the bearded man spoke. "What relic is it that they seek?"

"The Ring of Hunyad. A long time ago it was in my personal possession, but even as a child I knew it was not an ordinary piece of jewelry." Her eyes fell to the floor in shame. "My uncle knows all about this item, and he knows it is here, in this city, beneath our very feet." At those words the Assassins gasped. She couldn't possibly know about the Sanctuary! "I can sense it even now, the ring that has been in my family for generations unrecorded." Ruxandra adamantly planted her hands on the desk. "I have sought you out, Grand Master, with one request: give the ring back to me. The Order will be safe this way."

The brothers shared a look of mild horror and confusion while Mario sought to quell his temper at the audacity of her words. It had been his decree to send Giovanni's sons to Transylvania with the girl, a quest he felt was partially to blame for the deaths of his brother's wife, daughter and youngest child. For years he wondered if he had done the right thing by initiating Federico and Ezio into the Order, and now this woman was seeking to undo all their arduous work.

"Give it back?" Mario finally growled. "I think not, signorina. That artifact is beyond hope of control; I cannot very well let _you_ out into the world with it." He relaxed a tense fist and wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. "In exchange for the details of this plot you know so much about, however, I will grant you asylum for some time."

Ruxandra nodded in acceptance; she had expected such an answer. "My uncle is Matthius Corvinus, the King of Hungary. He has been searching for the ring of my father for my entire life. He knows you have it, and now others know as well. He has made a pact with holy men from this country, men of the Catholic Church—"

"That's why you've been killing them…" Federico interrupted, understanding.

The woman nodded again. "I thought that by striking fear of death into their hearts, these men might reveal themselves, but I have been in Italya for three months and still they are unknown. However, my uncle has a contact in the city of Florence that relays messages between Hungary and the Vatican."

"Name him," Mario commanded.

"Ambrus Meszaros, a feared general of the Hungarian army." She shuddered slightly upon picturing the vile man. "I have tried many times to interrogate him myself, but—"

Ezio interjected now. "Let me guess… he is protected by the entire army."

Ruxandra smirked ruefully. "Not _every_ soldier under the king's command, but you are correct. It is impossible for me to reach him; he is rarely vulnerable."

Mario absorbed this information in silence, trying to decide which course of action would be best. "If we are able to question him, we will know who has corrupted the Vatican," he thought aloud. "But what's to stop Matthius Corvinus from marching right into this place and attempting to take the ring back?"

At this the woman grinned. "They have something he wants… rather; a single man in the Vatican has something my uncle greatly desires. He would use it in conjunction with the ring, but to what end I do not know. The artifact in the Church's possession is yet another thing I need to discover."

Mario sighed deeply since he now felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Thank you for sharing such insight with me, signorina. Feel free to utilize all that our villa and this town have to offer. For the time being you'll be treated as an honorary member of the brotherhood."

"Can you do that?" Ezio skeptically wondered. His uncle only shrugged and sat back down, dismissing the three young people. Once out in the corridor Ezio shoved his chin close to his brother's ear. "Things aren't the same as before," he muttered a bit harshly. "Don't even _think_ about getting close to her. She's different, dangerous, and I don't trust her at all, regardless of what she knows." He gave Federico a hard glare. "She's not your potential wife anymore."

"…I know that," the taller man replied a bit indignantly. "I'm not a fool."

Ezio rolled his eyes. "Our previous adventure has led me to believe otherwise, fratello." He strode down the hall without further word, leaving his brother and Ruxandra alone.

She tapped her foot impatiently. "I'll show you to your quarters," Federico offered, earning a slight smile of thanks. The expression had not been genuine since he had walked in on her in the bathroom; perhaps she resented the fact that he had seen her naked. _'It was only her legs,'_ the man refuted. Federico paused outside a door to one of the vacant grand bedrooms of the mansion; if the rest of his family were still alive, Claudia would have claimed this retreat.

"So elegant…" Ruxandra couldn't help but breathe in awe. It was much nicer than her suite at the hotel which had only been used for a few days since she never stayed in the same place too long, but she could grow accustomed to sleeping on the enormous canopy bed and having plenty of room for her belongings. She turned back toward the man with an unexpectedly soft countenance. "It is only mid-day… Will you show me the rest of the villa?"

Federico wordlessly agreed to be her tour guide. He took her to the armory that held all types of weaponry from the region. They ventured to the library upstairs, then into the kitchen where Ruxandra accepted a hunk of fresh buttered bread. Outside they stood on the balcony overlooking tranquil gardens, but just looking at them was not enough for the young woman. Federico followed her into the green field while maintaining his distance.

"It is very peaceful here…" she sighed after a particularly playful breeze died down. "To think I could have called this my home long ago."

"What do you mean?" the man asked in a neutral tone. Ruxandra looked at him a bit shyly, the first time since their reunion her smug confidence waned.

"I once knew a young man- a very handsome, brave lad- who asked me to marry him. This was the city we were to live in; I did not believe the description he gave of its beauty, but now I can see why one would want to have a family here."

Federico managed to quell the hammering of his heart by internally repeating, _'It was in the past, this was all in the past…' _"Why were you not wed?" he still found himself asking. This question was a storm cloud obscuring her sunny visage, which turned cold and hard once more.

"My uncle came for me, so I was unable to give him an answer. I am not angry at him for leaving— I _wanted_ him to flee for his own safety. But I do wish I could have told him…"

_'What? What? What answer would you have given, mia cara?'_ He feigned ignorance and redirected the conversation. "Matthius came for you because he wanted the Ring of Hunyad?"

"Si, our family relic that houses an evil spirit. But I could not tell him where it was, so he tried to beat its hiding place out of me." Ruxandra shot the man a conflicted glance that wanted to seek pity yet held too much pride to do so. "It was futile… I told him nothing because I remembered nothing about it, but the two lads who traveled with me must have found it because it is here under the protection of your kind."

"What did you do up until now? Why did you wait so long to seek us out?"

Ruxandra relaxed once more. "I had to take care of my family, my madre and nonna. You see, my uncle's knights had been waiting for me, waiting in the forest until I arrived home after ten years abroad. During that time they hunted mercilessly, killing more game than they required, so the wolves began to die off. Our people had no pelts to trade for food, so _I_ became the hunter. I tracked bear and wolves and deer through the vast forest so my people would not starve or freeze to death during winter… and I was good at it."

Federico examined the taut recurve on her back and Ruxandra withdrew the weapon for him to gingerly accept. Bows were all but non-existent among his allies— they preferred swords, daggers, throwing knives and of course the Hidden Blade. Every assassin had one; Ezio had two actually, one being laced with poison that made a man dangerous to his own allies. A sharp rapier hung from the wide belt around Federico's waist; he had been well-trained by his father and uncle.

"It looks very strong," he remarked of the blackened oak bow. He strummed the string that appeared to be sinew from some animal and the reverberation made him grin in satisfaction. There had to be a lot of force behind the huntress' arrows.

"I have a question for _you_, asasin, and I want an honest answer…" The man met her sharp eyes with mild apprehension. "How do you know of my father?"

Federico purposely drew out the silence. "…I translated his journal," he finally answered. "I'm a linguist, and I wanted to know if Laszlo Hunyadi had written about the ring, which he did."

Ruxandra gave a brief sigh. "I see… I had hoped that wearing this weapon would help me keep his creed alive, and that is yet another reason why I am here." Her visage steeled so suddenly Federico was taken aback. "I want to join the Order… I want to become an Assassin like my father."

* * *

"If I were our zio, I would say no," Ezio stated during dinner which Ruxandra was exempt from. "She doesn't have the skill or discipline to do what we do."

Federico's raised eyebrow challenged that claim. "Scusi, but was it not Ruxandra who got away with killing one man nearly every day for an entire month? In Venezia, by the way, where it is not easy to avoid attention."

Giovanni said nothing while his eyes flicked between each son. "Anyone can kill someone," Ezio refuted, "we do it all the time."

"There is more to our creed than just killing people," Federico scoffed. "Ruxandra wants to uphold the values we struggle to maintain. She wants to protect the innocent as well. You just don't like the idea of having her as a member because she's a woman."

"No… I don't like the idea of her joining our Order because you are still in love with her!" Ezio's hawk eyes attempted to pierce his brother's stoic countenance. "I knew it from the moment you told me that Laszlo's journal reminds you of her. I never should have brought that rose back from the priest's corpse…" He shook his head disdainfully.

Federico took several deep breaths to keep himself calm. "I do _not_ love her… I don't even know her anymore. Ruxandra is a different person now… _I_ am a different person. What previously attracted me isn't there any longer, so…" He paused, unsure of his own words. "I feel like we need her help regarding this matter with Matthius and the Vatican and she would be more willing to aid us if she was our equal."

Ezio was remiss to accept such logic. That was how his brother always presented his case— there was no winning against irrefutable logic, even when he hated the outcome. "I still don't agree with you… but it will be our uncle's decision."

Only once the stars were out in force did Federico retire to his personal sanctuary. With a heavy sigh he unbuttoned the long white duster jacket, mussing his cropped hair as he did so. He slumped into a chair to unbuckle his short boots, then leaned forward to pull a red and gold doublet over his head. He flexed his arm after removing the metal bracer and sat in a manner that belied his age, ruminating over the events that had transpired today.

Never in his life had he imagined Ruxandra to be sleeping in a room just down the hall again; that fact almost made him leave to knock on her door, yet he knew without a doubt she wouldn't let him into her bed as before. She was no longer that girl.

_'She is a hunter, but she doesn't see a difference between hunting animals and people… she has no empathy.'_ But maybe that was understandable. People did cruel things to one another— Ruxandra knew that firsthand as a victim to her uncle's torture. Only an insane man could inflict such pain upon his own kin. _'She had to fight to survive these past five years,'_ Federico thought. _'I can't expect her to feel comfortable in such a different setting already.'_

He was jarred from contemplation by a series of quick raps upon his door. _'What does Ezio want now?'_ He pulled it open with a huffy breath that instantly turned into a surprised gasp when he met Ruxandra's glowing eyes. "Signorina! What are you doing here?"

"You can dispense with the formalities, Federico. I have known it was you since the Grand Master called you _nipote_." She slipped by him to sit in his desk chair. Confused, the man shut his door and returned to the edge of his bed. Silence occupied the air between them like a thick, strangling mist until Ruxandra's lips parted. "Do you remember how we first met, Federico? You came up to me and said I was the most beautiful lady in all of Florence. No one had spoken to me like that until then, and no one has spoken to me like that since."

A hint of a smile turned his lips. "I was much brasher in my youth… but I did mean what I said. You were- you still are- the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." _'But I know it's an unattainable beauty now.'_

"…Grazie," the woman said to the carpet. "Federico, I want to show you something…" He remained unmoving as Ruxandra walked right up to him. The silk nightgown one of the maids had provided her was too voluminous to show off any enticing parts of her body, but Federico easily recalled her slim legs, toned thighs and fine, fine ass. So when she turned around and pulled the garment up and over her head to present him with a bare back there was absolutely nothing he could do to withhold the breath of desire that escaped his lips, which were tingling due to racing blood.

"Put your hands on me," Ruxandra murmured. Federico eagerly obliged by gripping the lithe muscles of her waist. His thumbs slipped into the indents of her lower back which he caressed for a minute, then moved forward to feel her hip bones in his palms. He remembered watching her dance in the galley of the Turkish vessel that had sailed them to Constantinople, mystified by the motions her hips had made.

Her sweet natural perfume was making his head spin. He was certain that if he kissed her anywhere he would taste delicious, sugary, juicy apples. And grapes… Ruxandra always smelled like freshly harvested grapes, small red ones that turned into dessert wine. Finally he caught notes of the roses, those elegant, full blossoms that came in a rainbow of colors. They were beautiful to look at but hazardous to grasp. Federico reined in his desire as his fingertips crept up her spine.

What they touched felt like hot fire searing him to the bone. He released her with a gasp, rubbing his hands to see if he had actually been burnt. But no, that was just the way the skin on her back felt. Myriad angry scars flashed bright red in the candlelight even though they had healed long ago. Federico traced them with a feather-light touch, wincing as the sound of her tortured cries echoed throughout his mind. "Madre di Dio…" was all the man whispered, for further words died on his lips.

"I do not hate my uncle for giving me these," Ruxandra quietly spoke. "They remind me why I need to stand and fight against people like him, whose cruelty knows not kin from true enemy." Her body twisted as she turned to look at the man seated behind her. "I want to join you so no one has to suffer the way I did. Federico Auditore da Firenze…" She fully faced him now, unashamed of being completely nude. "If I destroy my father's ring, Matthius will never hurt anyone again. Do you know what I am asking of you?"

His sepia eyes remained locked on hers, seeing all the agony, sorrow, courage and fortitude they possessed. "Yes, Ruxandra… I'll return it to you. I swear I will. It is too late for me to protect you, but if there is anything I can do to prevent others from falling to similar fates, I will help you." Federico cupped her perfect face in his hands, finally earning the smile he recalled when he dreamt. _'I never stopped loving you,'_ he wanted to say, but he feared losing that serene smile to all the masks Ruxandra used to protect herself. What he wouldn't give to freeze this moment in time forever.

"Kiss me," the ethereal maiden whispered.

"What?"

"Seal your promise with a kiss, Federico."

The way his name passed her lips trickled down his spine like a drop of cold water. He had kissed them before with varying degrees of emotion, but this was one he could not name. Perhaps it was a feeling yet known to man. Whatever was fueling the fire in his veins became replaced by a white-hot inferno when Federico surged forward to meet her mouth. He melted with her onto his bed, his remaining clothes incinerating while he sunk into a state of bliss.

Not in half a decade had he conceived the thought of kissing another woman or even looking upon one with interest. Federico felt guilty for not being able to save her like he had sworn to himself, but Ruxandra forgave him. She abolished his guilt by letting him prove how much he loved her, how years of desire came down to this: a night of passion and trust, a new promise he made that could only be severed by Death… yet even then his will would carry on.

_"I will protect you forever."_


	11. Chapter 10: Duty

**_Translations_**  
_Avere a modo tuo: have it your way_  
_Capito: understand_  
_Figlio d'un cane: son of a bitch_  
_No preoccuparvi: not to worry_

* * *

Chapter Ten

Duty

Ruxandra awoke in a cold sweat, sitting up with a gasp. Her cheeks stung as though she had braved a blizzard in the Carpathians, but upon examining her surroundings she remembered where she was— safe inside the Villa Auditore at Monteriggioni in a warm bed. The thin sheets clung to her skin like spider webs so she brushed them off rather violently and stumbled onto the carpet. A few deep breaths helped calm her down, yet she still felt on edge, like when she was stalking a particularly dangerous alpha wolf through the forests of her homeland.

"There's no one here," she said out loud to confirm it. "There is no one in this bedchamber besides me."

_"But you're never alone, Ruxandra…"_ a soft male voice replied. Her head darted all around but she didn't find anyone lurking in the shadows of the room. _"I'm always here with you, in your mind… You know this."_

"Who are you?" There was no answer, so she thought the same question. _'Who are you?'_

_"You know very well who and what I am, dearest. Unfortunately we have only met once, when you were just a child…"_ The voice sighed longingly and Ruxandra could swear she felt a breath on her neck. A shiver made her next words come out wavering.

_'The spirit of my father… trapped in the ring?'_

A low chuckle was her answer. _"Yesss… Very good, my darling Ruxandra. I have not abandoned you as you believe… You and I can be together again."_ The voice sounded excited; consequently she anxiously clung to every word. _"I need you to find me. You need to take my ring from these people, and once you put it on there will be no force strong enough to separate us again."_

The enticing tone had covered her mind in a thick haze, making it impossible to think clearly. She felt like agreeing to anything it asked, so the idea of stealing her family relic back from her hosts seemed completely rationalized… except there was a tiny, niggling reminder in her subconscious that she couldn't ignore. At once nothing the voice had told her made any sense at all.

_'But, your writings…'_ Ruxandra managed to dredge up the memoirs she had read in her father's secret office. She recalled giving his diary to Federico, but that wasn't the only place his thoughts had been recorded. _'You said the ring is evil, and it needs to be destroyed. That's why I asked Federico to help me get it, and then I will search the world for the holy weapon you wrote about.'_

An encompassing silence greeted her rebuttal. _"…Why would I tell you how to destroy myself? Don't you love me? Don't you care for your father anymore?"_

_ 'Of course! But he died long ago… I've accepted that fact!'_

_"Death can be undone!" _the spirit chortled with demented glee._ "Approach the window, my dear Ruxandra, and let me show you the world that will be once we are reunited…"_

She obeyed the request as if in a trance. Her feet moved slowly of their own accord toward the large piece of glass that had revealed green grass and flowers yesterday, but that wasn't what she saw now. A hand flew to her mouth to prevent a shrill cry from escaping, a sound that would have been lost amid the symphony of destruction being conducted before her very eyes.

The land was no longer green, it was red as the blood flowing freely from freshly slain bodies, carving rivers through the charred ground. The sky had turned to fire and the only clouds came from pillars of black smoke rising from homes and mounds of burning carcasses. Creatures she could only describe as demons ran amok, chasing, slashing, tearing their prey apart before feasting on flesh and bone. _'No… God, no…'_

"_Oh yesss, Ruxandra…"_ She winced at the malicious, mocking hiss. _"This is the world you will help me build. It is such a lovely dream of yours… but I've seen something even more beautiful in your mind…"_

She felt her fingernails digging into her temples as if fusing her hands over her ears would prevent the horrible voice from entering. Just then she heard a different sound, a cry that consisted of her name, and it was desperate, pleading…

"_Xandra, my daughter! Help me!"_

'_Father?!'_ There he was, alive and trapped within a prison of bone that several of the hellish monsters were encroaching upon. _'Father! I'll save you!' _She mustered all her strength to make a mad dash for him.

But she was too late. A pit of fire opened up beneath the cage, and the claw holding it released. She watched the man's eyes grow wide, his arm reaching as far as possible through the wicked bones. His hand was almost in her grasp… Her fingertips were brushing his own now…

Laszlo Hunyadi fell directly into Hell.

* * *

Everyone in the villa was abruptly jarred from slumber by a blood-curdling scream. The cry echoed off each stone corridor, causing Giovanni and his elder brother Mario to jump up with their hair standing on end. Ezio shouted a curse before yanking his bedroom door open and sprinting down the hall. As the man closest to the source of the scream, Federico flew out of bed with the dagger he kept beneath his pillow in hand. He practically teleported into Ruxandra's room where he found her sitting up beneath the velvet canopy, her hair a tangled golden mess and the sheets in similar disarray.

Since horrible, menacing laughter had taken over her senses she couldn't hear Federico shouting her name, and she couldn't see him either since her eyelids were squeezed tightly together to block out the macabre images. He dropped the dagger to grip the woman's shoulders and spoke her name with such force her cry was cut off. Her eyes flew open to reveal constricted pupils.

Federico exuded a sigh of relief. "Ruxandra… are you all right?" She fearfully glanced at the three other men who had gathered outside the door before facing him.

"Yes… yes, I am fine…" She willed herself to stop shaking; Federico's touch greatly helped. "It was just a nightmare… a horrible vision."

"Cristo," Ezio grumbled from the hall, "it sounded like you were being murdered."

"Indeed," Mario nodded, eyeing the goose bumps on his thick tanned arms. "Would it trouble you to tell us what you saw?"

Federico retreated so she could plant her feet firmly on the floor. "My father died when I was a baby. But I saw him as I see you now, burning…" She bit back tears of helplessness that threatened to flood her eyes. "And the rest of the world was aflame."

Giovanni shook his head slowly. "Dreams like that aren't meant to be ignored. I wonder if what you saw is what will happen if Matthias Corvinus obtains the Ring of Hunyad and the artifact from the Church…"

The woman said nothing. The spirit inside the ring had shown her a nightmare that would become reality if she failed to destroy it… or if she put it on and allowed it to consume her. Neither option was acceptable, but since Federico had already secretly agreed to give it back to her, all she had to do was withstand its vile will and search for the holy weapon capable of removing it from the world once and for all.

That notion reminded Ruxandra she had something else to ask him. While the rest of his family dispersed to begin their day, which would hopefully remain peaceful, she caught him by the hand and he faced her with curiosity. He knew by now that after having seen her scars Ruxandra had returned to her own room, but he had fallen asleep with the feeling of her soft skin still in his hands and had only dreamed of making love to her.

"You said you translated my father's journal, yes?" she furtively inquired even though they were alone. The man's head dipped. "Did you come across any text mentioning a…" How to describe it exactly? "…powerful divine weapon?"

Federico furrowed his brow while trying to recall each chapter he'd translated detailing the life of Laszlo Hunyadi. The Hungarian noble wrote about his upbringing, how he liked going to church with his mother- Ruxandra's grandmother Erzsebet- but had begun to lose faith in humanity who seemed to be obsessed with hurting itself. That was why he became an Assassin, although notes describing the Hungarian Order were very few.

The journal contained sketches of the unique Hidden Blade, his family crest, and of course the ancient ring. Laszlo himself kept it hidden in a part of his castle because he could hear its dreadful voice in his head, making promises of absolute power if he would but release the spirit from its prison. The nobleman had written that he thought the spirit was trying to make itself whole again to wreak havoc on the world, but he wasn't about to let that happen. Laszlo frequently described his love for Maria and how she was the force that held the evil at bay, and when his daughter was born there was yet another soul worth fighting for.

He had known his end was nigh. King Ladislaus had become corrupted by the Templars, who knew all about the ring thanks to Laszlo's younger brother, Matthias. Together they plotted to remove Laszlo from their path, so he had instructed Maria to give their daughter the ring when the time came. The day before his apparent death, Laszlo Hunyadi wrote a single entry in his journal:

"_We named her after the dawn because it is my hope that the sun will soon rise on a world free of suffering and injustice… If my daughter must become that light, I know she will be the one who finally liberates our family from the curse of that infernal relic…_

_And she will do it with the help of Soul Calibur."_

"Soul Calibur…" Federico muttered, glancing into the woman's expectant visage. "Your padre once mentioned something called Soul Calibur. But I've never heard of it."

Ruxandra still grinned at the news. "That is fine; at least I now know it exists! A weapon that has the power to destroy the evil spirit that haunts us once and for all… Oh Federico, you must know how important this quest is!"

"Si…" he morosely replied, "but about what I said last night, Ruxandra…" Her eyes narrowed. "I don't think I can give the ring back to you… not when it causes you to see such terrible things. I won't let you torture yourself." He solemnly withstood the seething glare she directed at him and after a long moment she reluctantly accepted his statement. "You wanted our help, so you're going to get what's best for you whether you like it or not."

Her smiled was twisted. "Federico Auditore, I dare say it sounds like you actually care about me."

'_Of course I do!'_ "I'm just doing what I believe is best for our Order… which you now belong to for the time being." With that the man returned to his own room to get dressed. Today their mission would be outlined and assigned.

"Padre, zio…" Ezio greeted as he entered the latter's office. His elders were leaning over a map of the continent and paused their conversation regarding how vast the Kingdom of Hungary really was when the young man approached. "What is our plan of attack?"

His father smoothed his mustache before responding. "So far we have decided that either you or Federico will accompany the girl to Firenze to investigate Ambrus Meszaros."

"Your father and I will be making a trip to Budapest to gather as much information as possible. Hopefully we will make a few friends there." Mario's broad, confident grin infected his nephew's lips. "Whoever does not go with Roxana will head to Roma so we can try to learn about the Church's mysterious item that Matthias Corvinus desires."

"Do you think there could be a connection between that object and the one our Templar spies have told us about?" Ezio hypothesized. His elders hummed their approval at his astute suggestion.

"That very well may be, my son," Giovanni smiled. "Perhaps you should be the one to visit the Roman church."

A wicked sneer revealed his teeth. Ezio knew that Federico would leap at the chance to travel alone with Ruxandra; if he had been in the room and heard his father's words he'd have already taken advantage of the suggestion. But the youngest Auditore was not about to let his brother throw away years of hard training to get close to some woman, so he would test Federico's loyalty to their creed by letting him make the decision of venturing to Rome or not.

Since there were still some details of the mission to finalize Ruxandra took advantage of the fortress's training ground and the willingness of a young soldier to help her. She stretched for several minutes while her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the courtyard; her bow had always been fired under a canopy of trees. Several yards away the mercenary-in-training was waiting with a stack of breakable objects that she would attempt to strike.

Unknown to her, Federico was standing on the balcony above, interested to see how adept an archer she really was. "Ready!" she called, and the boy hurled a misshapen clay saucer into the air. Ruxandra quickly nocked an arrow, judged the path of the dish, and released the string. Her target shattered into tiny pieces. The soldier applauded her skill and threw a larger dinner plate next. A steel-tipped arrow struck that target almost instantly.

After Ruxandra successfully destroyed several single airborne items, the lad began tossing multiple objects, one after the other, to increase the woman's rate of fire. She drew her arrows with precision and speed, always exhaling as she let them fly. Concentration was the key to her skill; one could not afford to be caught off guard in the wild of Transylvania. Accuracy determined life from death.

'_Not bad at all,'_ Federico thought as he returned inside. _'I hope to never give her reason to hunt __me__.'_ He almost ran straight into Ezio on his way to the kitchen. "What orders from Mario?" he inquired.

"One of us is to journey to Firenze with Roxana, and the other to Roma. I will complete the task you do not take. Which shall it be?"

"Whichever one you do not want, fratellino."

Ezio's nostrils flared, a sign he was anxious. Federico repressed a knowing smirk and lifted his head a little more, waiting. "I don't think I can handle the despair of returning to the city of our old life…" he finally said with a flippant wave. "And I would enjoy making a few cardinals nervous in their own church."

"What makes you believe _I_ want to return to Firenze?" the older brother refuted with equal ambiguity. "We haven't been to Roma before and there might be a Codex page just waiting for me find and translate it." _'You're no match for me, Ezio.'_

Brown hawk eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. "Why don't we ask Roxana who she would prefer to work with?"

"Avere a modo tuo…" Federico spread his palms innocently. "It doesn't matter to me."

* * *

In the end it was Mario who dictated that Ruxandra and Federico would go to Florence together on the merit that his elder nephew knew the language of Hungary and would be able to understand any words that passed between Ambrus and other targets of interest. Ezio directed one last warning glare at his brother before spurring his horse south where the Roman Catholic Church and its corrupt member of the papacy lay in wait. "We shall meet you back here in one week's time," Giovanni said to the mounted duo. "Our next move will be based on what we all learn, so do not dismiss any information as trivial. Capito?"

"Intesi, Padre," Federico smiled. "Our eyes and ears will always be open."

"Buona fortuna!" Mario waved before galloping toward the north exit. Giovanni only lowered his head before following, then his son and the huntress calmly walked their horses through the gates of Monteriggioni as well. The day was pleasant and they received greetings from many workers in the fields which made Ruxandra smile. For a long time they said nothing to one another, simply surveying the path ahead until it became shaded by tall oak trees.

"It is almost like times passed…" the woman with braided hair mused aloud, "except I am no longer a hapless, useless maid." There was a double meaning to her words— Ruxandra meant that Federico wouldn't be able to take advantage of her. There would be no bed sharing on this adventure, no kissing, and definitely no marriage proposals.

That was fine with him. Federico had grown much in five years; he knew how to obey the Creed and remain level-headed instead of letting his heart lead him into trouble. But that didn't mean he couldn't rekindle their friendship. "I hope you don't find this tedious in comparison to your usual outings. Travel is something we do quite often… we have to get to a source of information before it disappears. The most valuable thing to our Order is knowledge."

"I know," Ruxandra returned a little haughtily, "that is why I shared all I have learned with the Grand Master. The men we go to find have not been conspiring long- it probably took them some time to trust each other with their secrets."

"Which will become our weapon against them," Federico smiled. "And since we are on the subject, tell me about your Hidden Blade. I've never seen anything like it, not even from the Codex. It supplied Ezio's poisonous blade, but nothing like what you have."

His companion contemplated the device around her right arm. "What little I know about it I learned from a few scraps of paper. It was designed by a Persian man long ago who may have been an ancestor to my family. My father was not a great artist, but if you look here…" She flicked her wrist up and the thin, slightly curved blade shot out. "It is released with pressure, and then…" Sliding a tiny switch ejected the spike and Federico could see that it had two notches at the base which must secure it to the mechanism inside. Ruxandra carefully returned the blade to its concealed state. "He left me enough diagrams to take it apart if necessary."

'_Leonardo could make a copy…'_ was the Assassin's first thought, yet he shoved it aside when he realized the Hidden Blade that had belonged to Laszlo Hunyadi should remain unique and… special. Like Ruxandra. Now that she was back in his life he thought about her constantly; he wished he could go back in time and prevent her from receiving those scars that were now shielded by a soft linen blouse with puffy gathered sleeves and her violet velvet cloak. The neat, tight braid was appropriate for her age and an embroidered red scarf with long ends circled her brow. She rode quite comfortably in the saddle with her leather and suede-covered heels angled toward the dirt.

"Those boots look very nice," the man commented.

Ruxandra smiled a bit deviously. "Grazie. I stole them."

"What?"

"I got them in Belgrade from a merchant's cart. He had stopped to argue with an officer and I saw them falling out of their box. He didn't even notice they were gone when the man inspected his wares." She shrugged nonchalantly.

The Assassin could only roll his eyes. "Thieving gypsy…" he muttered, though not as quietly as he thought.

"Do _not_ call me that," the woman snapped. "I do not belong to the Romani, and even if I did, 'gypsy' is entirely wrong."

"Mi dispiace, signorina…" Federico lowered his head a little. "I didn't know."

"Gypsy means 'little Egypt', but that is not where the Romani are from," she calmly explained. "They came from the Orient and now consist of many peoples- Turks, Arabs, Rroms, Hungarians, Indians… That is why I felt so at home with them in my youth, because they supported my own dreams and not the ones my madre and nonna wanted me to have."

"So what do you dream of doing once this business with betrayers and vile reliquaries and holy weapons is finished?" His words were more pointed than intended and made his companion's eyes widen in surprise.

At first the inquiry met with silence, but then Ruxandra sighed deeply, defeated. "I want a life of peace…" her muted voice admitted. "I will not have children until the ring is destroyed; I will not condemn them to such torment. So, after I have accomplished that task… I would like to be married, and live in a house by the vast ocean."

Federico knew she didn't see him in that vision of the future, but he too could picture a grand estate resting atop a hill overlooking the ocean, that limitless blue stretching to the horizon and beyond. A pair of beautiful blonde children played in the branches of a pine tree while Ruxandra, having finally found serenity and happiness, kept a vigilant eye on them. The only thing he could not imagine was her ideal husband.

* * *

They didn't converse much after that but were forced to communicate once they arrived in Florence. Federico was taken aback at how depressed the populace was, how neglected the buildings were and how edgy the city he had lived in for most of his life made him. The few people they passed on the streets kept their faces covered, glancing up at the newcomers before darting away. Many studios and galleries had either closed or been vandalized, and when the pair of riders entered the campo of Santa Maria Novella they learned why fair Firenze was in such a state of dismay.

A small squadron of Hungarian knights was harassing several courtesans, making obscene gestures and presumably uttering perverse things to the women who tried to escape the armored circle. All the men wore silver plate mail with blue tunics beneath and gold coronets around their heads, all except for one warrior who retained a full helm with impressive plumage.

"It is him…" Ruxandra muttered just loud enough, "Ambrus Meszaros. He is the one responsible for ruining this place."

"I know the name well…" Federico growled as he eyed the man with contempt. "He was the one who interrogated my father to find out where Ezio and I had taken you, and after extracting our destination he killed the rest of my family." Ruxandra shot him an empathetic glance and seemed to see exactly what was going through his mind, which his curled lip did nothing to conceal. Ambrus was now close enough to kill, close enough for Federico to drive his Hidden Blade straight through his throat…

"Vengeance is not part of our task." The maiden placed a consoling hand on his shoulder and he relaxed slightly. "We need him to lead us to the man in the Vatican, then you may kill him."

With much regret Federico turned his horse around, leaving the disgusting display behind. He followed Ruxandra to a sparsely populated part of town and it took him a moment to recognize the building of La Rosa Colta, the bordello she had worked for when they first met. He supposed he owed the place some measure of thanks because if not for Paola's scheme of using her to attract clients she never would have been standing outside Palazzo Auditore.

"I stayed here last month," Ruxandra explained with a grin, "when I first learned of Ambrus' arrangement with my uncle. Madonna Paola is expecting me." She swung out of the saddle and pounded out a rhythm on the door which opened after a moment. The woman in the red dress looked more or less the same, but weariness was evident in the corners of her eyes and brow. She glanced up and down the street before waving her old employee and the man inside.

"Roxana, I am glad to see you," Paola attempted to smile as they exchanged air kisses. "Things have taken a turn for the worse in Firenze… That horrible man is getting bored, and as such he has begun attacking courtesans for his own amusement. My girls fled to the safety of their families, but I have remained, waiting for you to help us."

"Help is just what we have come to offer, Madonna," Ruxandra smiled. "You might remember my friend, Federico Auditore."

She gasped upon hearing the name, looking at the bowing man in white with bewilderment. Then her countenance softened and she placed a tentative hand on his scruffy cheek. "I should have known you would follow in your father's footsteps," Paola beamed. "Your brother, too, I presume?"

"Si…" the man slowly answered, "but how did you know?" Her smile and wink informed him she wasn't about to reveal her secrets. Federico shook his head while chuckling. "In any event, what can you tell us about Ambrus Meszaros?" The armed duo followed Paola into the parlor where she indicated a barely-worn divano, and they sat down expectantly.

"He never moves without at least six soldiers to watch his back… that means he is afraid. But it is a violent fear that unleashes itself upon innocent people who provoke him, sometimes with an action as minute as looking upon him for too long. These people are tied to a post in the center of the square and beaten until their blood stains the stone…" Paola shuddered at the image she had already seen too often.

Ruxandra didn't seem fazed by this information. "He is called the Inquisitor by other men in the army," she expounded. "They say he learned cruelty from Vlad Teppes, a prince of Wallachia."

"Are you talking about Vlad the Third?" Federico suddenly inquired a bit amusedly. He laughed outright when the huntress nodded, confused. "My father slew him four years ago while he was at sea… how coincidental!"

The news made his companion speechless. Although she hadn't personally fancied the man, Vlad had been a respected soldier and a champion for his people, and only after his death, which she now knew had been an assassination, had Wallachia been claimed by the Ottomans. It was quite suspicious that when he died his brother Radu had taken over the territory, and a few months later did his alliance with Mehmed II come to light. Ruxandra wasn't sure if she should be upset since Vlad was a hero in many people's eyes; his acts of demoralizing cruelty had held the Ottomans at bay for years.

Paola still had more to tell them. "Once a week, Ambrus receives a scroll from a man from the south, which he gives to another man who then heads north. I think he is a courier relaying information to Matthias Corvinus in Hungary."

"So it would be to our advantage to intercept this message…" Federico slyly stated. "A good starting point. But there is something I must know, Madonna… Why hasn't Duke Lorenzo stood up to this menace?"

"Because Ambrus has threatened him into silence," the raven-tressed woman replied with wide eyes, "by murdering his brother, Giuliano."

Federico felt his wrath ignite at these words. "Figlio d'un cane!" he hissed with much vehemence, standing up so harshly the divano was shoved backwards. He muttered more curses beneath his breath while the women exchanged glances.

"No preoccuparvi, Paola," Ruxandra said with a kind smile, "we will not leave Florence until establishing our own plan to end his tortuous reign over this city." _'And hopefully prevent the rest of the world from falling to men like him!'_ The lady in red stood up, smiling her gratitude although her eyes still retained their disparaging glaze. She informed her guests they were welcome to utilize La Rosa Colta in any way that would best serve them; as such, Ruxandra headed upstairs to her old room after fetching her belongings from the horse.

Since he was too aggravated to rest just yet, Federico explored all the bedchambers which had once been dens of ecstasy filled with women eager to serve the men who came to relax and have their fantasies come true. Incense still clung to every piece of fabric, especially the curtains which made him sneeze when he inhaled too deeply. "I cannot sleep elsewhere," he informed Ruxandra, who had removed all her weaponry and was smiling at her reflection in the vanity mirror. One of her eyebrows formed a high arch. "The other rooms smell unpleasant…" the man mumbled.

She scrutinized his expression but found it genuine and acquiesced to his request with a sigh. "Very well… the sofa is quite comfortable, as you will discover." She opened a chest of drawers to produce some thin blankets and extra pillows and arranged them to form the semblance of a bed. Federico began removing his white attire while Ruxandra loosened her braid, allowing a waterfall of golden locks to cascade down her back. She smirked at the man's enamored expression captured in the mirror. "Just as long as you remember, no?"

Federico blushed slightly. "A bit more so, it seems… It would be a lie to tell you that you haven't changed at all."

"I had to change to survive," was the blunt reply.

"I know that…" the man quietly countered. "But you haven't changed so much that I am unable to recall the girl you once were."

Ruxandra rolled her eyes as she brushed her hair. "Oh yes- a naïve, ignorant, helpless child who fell for the first man who told me I was pretty… I am glad to no longer be that stupid girl."

He spoke calmly and carefully. "I never called you pretty. I said you were the most ravishing lady of Firenze… and you still are." Even though it had stung when she called herself foolish for succumbing to his charm, Federico was glad she admitted having some feelings for him that were not distrust, resentment or cynicism. It would probably result in some measure of physical pain if he asked what her exact definition of "falling for" meant, so he held his tongue.

"We hold each other's lives in our hands, now…" the Assassin went on. "I need to know you won't abandon me when I need you most, just as you know I will stay by your side if we must battle our way out of a situation. That is what it means to be a part of this brotherhood. I am trusting you to help me accomplish our task, so give me your word that you trust me not to compromise it."

Ruxandra rotated fully to focus her empyrean eyes upon the man. None of her facial features revealed what she was thinking; she simply gazed directly into his own earthy orbs without blinking. Although unnerving at first Federico decided to let her peer into his soul, and after another long moment she must have determined his words to be the irrefutable truth, for she exhaled slowly and stood to snuff out the candle that allowed them both to see.

"Noapte bună, Federico Auditore," the woman murmured after she was secure beneath the comforter.

"Buona notte, Ruxandra Hunyadi," Federico fondly answered.


	12. Chapter 11: Crusade

_**Translations**_  
_Fattyu: bastard (H)_  
_Tarfa: whore (H)_  
_Liberta: liberty_  
_Creapa, abominato: die, abomination_  
_Liberta per il popolo: liberty for the people_  
_Dio ti benedica: thank god_  
_Futu-i: fuck you (R)_

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Crusade

It only took two days of being in Florence for Federico and Ruxandra to intercept the letter meant for Ambrus Meszaros' eyes. They waited outside the city at night, hidden in shrubbery lining the road. A half-moon provided enough light for the huntress to clearly see her surroundings, but she heard rather than saw the messenger walking his horse up to the city's arch. He was too comfortable in the saddle, a fact attributed to his general's unwavering grip on the populace. Therefore he never conceived the thought that someone might conspire to undo such terrible reign.

The man's mount was pitch black and traveled on strong legs meant to endure lengthy journeys through the harsh terrain of the Carpathians. Transylvanian horses were coveted by nobles and warriors alike, and Ruxandra knew the stables in Florence must be filled with them. She drew back her bowstring and had to wait but a few seconds for the man to enter her line of fire. She purposefully rustled the bushes which caused the courier's head to jerk in her direction. At that moment Federico darted out of his hiding place to run up behind him, and Ruxandra let fly her arrow.

The Assassin's hands were already covering his mouth when the arrow struck him in the chest, easily penetrating his leather armor. His wide eyes only had time to take in the sight of the hooded man in white before drawing his last breath. "Requiescat in pace…" Federico mumbled before searching the man's jacket for the scroll. As his accomplice strode into the road he held it up with a grin. Keeping the horse as a prize, Ruxandra led it back into the city and the pair quickly returned to La Rosa Colta.

"Let us see what news from the Vatican," Federico said once they were safely within the woman's room. He sat down at the foot of the bed while Ruxandra intently hovered over his shoulder, holding her breath as he unrolled the parchment.

_Ambrus,_

_Please inform your king that I will __not__ tolerate an invasion of the very land I plan to become ruler of. Under no circumstances is he to set foot in Italia until I have created a force large enough to assault Monteriggioni, kill the Assassins situated there and deliver the Ring of Hunyad as per our agreement._

_Matthias must understand that these men are as ruthless as my own, and just one of them boasts more combat prowess than five average soldiers. Yet he need not worry— the people I am gathering to my cause are fueled by religious fervor and are ready to abolish any order that would go against the word of God. It is easy to perform miracles when they are undeniably real._

_Now I need only wait for your niece to arrive in Roma in an attempt to find me. I will meet her in broad daylight, and once my legion sees who has tried to murder their most divine leader they will beg to exact vengeance upon the Assassins… regardless if she allies with them or not._

_R. Borgia_

Ruxandra finished reading first and frowned slightly, sitting back on her heels while she waited for Federico to say something. Although she had definitely made her presence known over the last two months, it was impossible for her uncle and this "R. Borgia" to predict that she would have the aid of the Assassins in unraveling their nefarious scheme. At least she now knew that R. Borgia was in possession of the device her uncle sought, and he was apparently using it to rally people under the guise of performing miracles. She wished she knew just what kinds of events were transpiring in Rome.

Federico scowled deeply when he read the signature of the letter's author. He made a guttural sound of disapproval while rising to his feet. "I should have known _they_ were behind this…" he uttered with a hiss.

"Who?" his ally wanted to know. She faced him expectantly with her head tilted.

The Assassin ran a weary hand through his hair and inhaled deeply. "The man who wrote that letter is Rodrigo Borgia, the Grand Master of the Knights Templar."

"What is the Knights Templar?" Ruxandra asked.

"Tch…" Federico scoffed. "You want to be an Assassin, yet you don't know who our most ancient of enemies is… Fine, I will tell you." He unfolded his arms and sighed. "The Templar Order reached its pinnacle when the crusade to claim Jerusalem in the name of Christianity began. They once held sway over nearly every monarchy in Europe— they were wealthy, formidable in combat, and very involved in politics. Their goal has always been to take control of mankind, to rule us with an iron fist under the guise of enlightenment and unity. But their methods make it clear the one thing they truly crave is power, absolute and unrelenting. Our Order has fought against them to maintain the freedom that is mankind's birthright since ancient times… and that is why we must not let this plan achieve completion."

Ruxandra silently absorbed this information before standing up to look Federico in the eye. "They are only human, so they seek devices that would allow them to project their will into the minds of us all..." Her eyes narrowed to catechizing slits. "Tell me, Federico… It is not just my family's ring that sits beneath the foundation of your villa. I could sense it there, of course, but there are other artifacts hidden in the Earth as well, are there not? Things as ancient and mysterious as time itself…" She suddenly spun away from him since his brow grew increasingly furrowed. "They spoke to me… whispering many promises, showing me great deeds and amazing places from the past, telling me the reasons why we live… What _are_ they?"

The way her voice pleaded, the way her eyes strove to learn the truth— Federico couldn't torture her by withholding all he knew. "They are called… Pieces of Eden…" he tentatively began. "The pages on the wall of mine and Mario's office… that is the Codex of Altaïr, who was Grand Master of our Order over two hundred years ago. During his lifetime he was tasked with finding a Piece of Eden called the Apple, a golden orb that let him see into the future, and it also showed him locations of other Pieces. Men have been slaying one another over such artifacts for millennia, but some of them were never meant to be placed in human hands."

Ruxandra was listening as if in a trance, so he went on. "Altaïr wrote that it was a race of gods who created the artifacts, beings who once used humans as slaves, but we rebelled and stole as many of the Pieces as possible and used them to build our world. They come in many forms, from orbs to items of clothing to weapons… We have three in the Vault, along with the Ring of Hunyad, which our research revealed to have no connection to any of the Pieces."

"So…" the woman quietly spoke, "the holy weapon my father believes can destroy the ring… is a Piece of Eden? And the thing that allows Rodrigo Borgia to perform his miracles… is also one of these relics?"

Federico regrettably spread his hands. "Until we see them with our own eyes we cannot know for certain. But we do know that the weapon your father described has a name: Soul Calibur. Surely others besides him must know of it. Perhaps my father and uncle will discover information about it in Budapest." With that he shrugged and smiled warmly. "For now we must focus on our own task. Since Ambrus has not received his letter on schedule he will suspect a plot, so tomorrow we go to protect the people. Make sure your blade is sharp."

He awoke before his companion and decided to gather a head count of the exact number of soldiers in Florence. They still had four days until Mario and his father would be back in Monteriggioni; in that time the Assassin vowed to liberate Florence. And if Ambrus Meszaros was removed from the chain of command, maybe, just maybe, they could impersonate him, return to the Kingdom of Hungary, and eliminate Matthias as well.

The glaring sun blinded all who would have looked up to see Federico venturing across the rooftops as he visited each quarter of the city, getting a bird's-eye view of the knights. They were always doing one of three things: standing in a group of four to six making conversation, loafing about in the markets and outside bordellos, or patrolling in pairs. Ambrus himself was situated outside Palazzo Medici to prevent anyone from speaking with Lorenzo or his family members.

_'This has gone on far too long,'_ the man in white silently decreed. He knew he couldn't kill every knight on his own; there were fifty at minimum. With the help of Ruxandra's bow, however, the odds would lean in his favor. He was remiss to rouse the huntress whose hair was strewn over the pillow like a halo, her lips slightly parted. For a moment Federico was enraptured by the vision of absolute serenity she presented and was leaning over her before he could stop himself. The scent he inhaled this time hearkened him back to the exact moment they had lain together in his bed on that chilly spring night, when her gaze had dared him to kiss her. He had obliged by restraining the ardor that threatened to consume him, but this time discipline stayed his lips.

Ruxandra's eyes flew open regardless, but by then Federico was laying out her armaments. "Get dressed and be prepared to cleanse Firenze of tyranny. Your aim must be accurate."

"It is always accurate…" the woman yawned and stretched toward the ceiling. The first thing she did was brush and braid her hair, then she laced up her boots, secured the headband, and finally affixed her arming wear. Downstairs Paola offered them a meager breakfast; the huntress wondered if her favorite fruit vendor was still alive and waiting to resume business. She decided this alone was worth ridding the city of her uncle's forces.

* * *

Up on the roof of a building in the Oltrarno district, Ruxandra stretched while keeping a watchful eye on the man in white down below. Their plan was simple: stealthily eliminate as many knights as possible while working their way to Palazzo Medici in San Marco district. Once freed, he would be able to rally the city's officers who would hopefully be able to remove the rest of the invaders. They couldn't allow any to escape for fear that word would reach Matthias who was poised to invade all of Italy.

Although Ruxandra had a full quiver of arrows she quickly ran out, her shafts having buried themselves in the gaps between spaulder and gorget, breastplate and tasset. She would never admit that she was hard-pressed to keep pace with Federico who moved through each group of knights like a tornado, his nonchalant approach belying the fact that he was a very deadly whirlwind of blades. Ruxandra knew she had no hope of standing up to him in close-quarters combat, but she much rather preferred the art of stalking and trapping her prey, which some of the soldiers made all too easy by running into dead-end alleys.

Now they were crossing the Arno. Federico walked up to a group of four men with halberds, dangerously effective weapons if they would have had time to face off against him. He had no qualms about driving his Hidden Blade directly into the throat of a man mid-sentence before quickly drawing his rapier, which instantly found the weak spots in their gleaming silver armor. When he and Ruxandra were done dispatching them it took on a rusted hue due to their pooling blood.

Only twice did a soldier manage to summon reinforcements, but with the help of the heavenly arrows Federico managed to fend off these extra foes. He slowly circled an enemy armed with a tall shield and broad sword who managed to block Ruxandra's deadly rain; the Assassin swore he heard her curse from above. A frontal attack wouldn't work while the knight could fend off each blow with his gilt shield, so Federico sheathed his rapier to face him seemingly empty handed.

"You wish to die a fool's death?" the Hungarian spat.

"It is you who is the fool for underestimating me," Federico returned in the same language, making the man falter. But then his face twisted into a vile sneer as he hefted his sword, surging forward to cleave the Assassin in half. Federico only smirked and rolled to one side, feeling cobblestones dig into his back as he first drew the dagger from its sheath around his thigh, then plunged it into the back of the knight's knee which made him drop the sword. With an audible "snick" the Hidden Blade revealed itself to the invader before piercing his neck, and Federico left him in a crumpled heap.

Ruxandra gracefully swung down to street level with the help of a laundry line. The Assassin eyed her empty quiver, then glanced around to find the nearest weapons shop. There was one covered by shoddy planks and crooked nails that he easily tore free. The woman coughed once inside for a thick layer of dust assaulted her nose. "I do not think the blacksmith would appreciate stealing," she sniffled.

"It's not as if he's in business right now," the man countered. He found what he was looking for and tossed a bundle of arrows to his companion, who frowned at the slightly-worn tips. She still cut the string and placed them in her quiver, and her nod let them continue their mission.

People who had previously been hiding in their homes began venturing into the streets devoid of knights. They spoke excitedly to one another and pointed at the armed duo making their way to Palazzo Medici. Even if Ambrus rose an alarm, there would be less than twenty men who answered. Federico eyed the general from a darkened alley while Ruxandra leaped to grab a gutter and pulled herself onto the roof of an abandoned apothecary. "As Paola told us, he is surrounded by six men. I think they are captains from Hungary's army."

"Their rank won't help them ascend in Hell," the Assassin muttered. "If you get a shot at crippling Ambrus, take it." Ruxandra nodded at that, and Federico strode slowly into the piazza, keeping his head angled downward.

"Halt!" a rather petite soldier said as he abruptly came to stand in Federico's path. "What business do you have with us, peasant?"

'_Peasant?'_ The Assassin scoffed. "My business is with Duke Lorenzo."

The guard snorted. "No one is permitted to meet with him…" Federico's attire finally garnered the man's attention. "I've never seen anyone here dressed like you."

"I'm surprised you notice anyone else knowing you spend most of your time harassing defenseless young women," he retorted in flawless Hungarian. "Even without your armor on, I'm certain they remain oblivious to your… enthusiasm… since you are as endowed as a wilted bean."

The soldier tightened his grip on his spear. "You… You… Fattyú!" Federico didn't know what that particular word meant, but he didn't like his tone of voice. That was enough for him to plant his palm on the knight's chest and give it a hard shove. He would never utter another insult again, for the Hidden Blade sunk deep into his jugular.

"Oi!" one of the other knights yelled and charged forward, but all he did was run straight into the sharp pike Federico had picked up and aimed at his lower abdomen. His blue tunic turned a dark violet as blood gushed from the wound, and Federico finally gained the attention of Ambrus Meszaros.

The Assassin found himself surrounded by four fully armored knights who weren't about to fall for any tricks. As Federico's eyes darted to the slits of each face-covering helm, challenging the men who hid beneath them, he withdrew his favored rapier and flexed his wrist in a taunting manner. The knight who answered it took two steps and promptly faltered due to an arrow emerging from the back of his neck. Federico didn't acknowledge Ruxandra, but he knew she was on top of the Medici household. _'Let them watch as we reclaim fair Firenze…'_

"Kill him already!" the man beneath the bright blue plume bellowed. His voice was powerful with a slight rasp to it acquired from yelling orders on the battlefield. His own pike was adorned with a flag depicting a raven in flight, and the way he stood was too relaxed, as though he believed the Assassin would be easily defeated.

Before Federico had had the element of surprise on his side, but now the knights knew what to expect. A man whose helm revealed long black hair circled the Assassin slowly, his gauntleted hand secure around the shaft of the lance. Even though he was weighed down he maintained his balance well. Federico suddenly lunged at the man, the tip of his sword making a beeline for the exposed inner thigh. The knight maneuvered his weapon to knock the blade off course and in the next moment Federico found himself jumping backward to avoid being skewered. "At least you are competent in the field of combat," he jeered.

The black-haired warrior said nothing, instead hefting the lance above his head and spinning it before slashing at Federico's shoulder. His rapier quickly rose to deflect the strike but he didn't get the chance to counter, for the knight used his momentum to keep spinning the weapon that whooshed through the air. How one could move so gracefully with such an awkward device was beyond Federico, and for the first time he felt his confidence wane. It was bolstered, however, when an arrow came flying over his right shoulder to land in the knight's hand, and he promptly dropped his weapon. The rapier instantly dove into his gut and he fell with a groan.

Federico raised his eyebrow at the last three men, luring them into combat. That probably wasn't such a good idea because they all charged him at the same time, so he turned and sprinted toward some crates stacked against the wall of a brick building. Up he went, planting one foot then the other on the wall, pushing himself into the open air. As Federico vaulted over their helms he watched the sharp heads of their spears fragment the stonework, mere seconds too slow. His enemy had proven themselves to be fast, but he was much faster. When Federico landed he dashed forward to pierce the back of a blonde knight's leg, yet amazingly he rounded on the Assassin and rapidly jabbed at his chest.

He flung himself aside just in time for the spearhead to tear through his jacket, not his flesh, but the two other knights were quick to take advantage of his sliding fall. One leaped into the air to bring his lance down into Federico's gut and the other, a flame-haired man, crushed his shin with a sabaton. The Assassin cried out and managed to twist himself at an awkward angle to avoid being skewered; he would be dead in seconds if he didn't get off the ground.

Federico managed to kick the next incoming point away but was still held fast by the redhead. He sat up while diverting the blonde man's spear, withdrew his dagger and drove it into his captor's inner thigh, puncturing the main artery. The soldier fell over with a howl of anguish and Federico jumped back to his feet, ready with the rapier. This time he faced two whirling spears and had to keep retreating while he tried to think of an effective method for dealing with them. The unexpected answer came in the form of Ruxandra, who leaped down from her perch and soundly smacked the red-haired knight in the head with her bow. A quick check revealed she was out of arrows again.

"Tarfa!" the soldier shouted and barreled toward her. She faced him head-on much to Federico's dismay, who was almost caught off-guard by a series of spearhead thrusts, his blade singing as he deflected each one from his vital organs. Ruxandra leaned precariously to avoid a buttcap strike to her head, but the knight quickly brought it down into her chest. She lay sprawled on the ground, a perfect target.

"No!" Federico cried out as he desperately fought to prevent his flesh from being riddled with holes. His enemy barely gave him a chance to breathe, and now he was starting to wonder if he even had the skill to challenge Ambrus who still stood on the front steps of the palazzo, just watching. Ruxandra had a trick up her sleeve, however; or rather, it was on her belt. The grappling hook attached to the rope at her waist flew toward her attacker and snagged his spaulder. The huntress tugged the man off balance and her dagger struck true, embedding itself above his tasset as he fell and remained unmoving.

The look she shot Federico said "stay focused on your own battle!" and he did just that by employing the dizzying footwork Mario had taught him. Rapiers weren't meant to take hits; as such, the Assassin's arm was shaking due to how many blows he'd absorbed. He controlled the offense now, swiping, slashing and lunging at the blonde knight. Federico ducked a sudden swing, spun two times in a crouched position, and popped up in his foe's face, who was wide open to the Hidden Blade. Federico was sure he heard the man gasp in defeat.

Breathing heavily, Federico took stock of his wounds which were minor and shallow. Ruxandra was fine aside from a presumably blooming bruise on her sternum. She stood up slowly, fixating Ambrus with a cold, calculating glare while coiling the rope of her grappling hook. After a tense moment the general descended the steps slowly and deliberately, coming to stand ten feet from the pair of challengers. Then he lifted the visor of his helm which revealed ghoulish facial features, a thick short beard and dark blue eyes laden with contempt.

"So you are the ones who read the letter from Borgia." The way he said the cardinal's name suggested an intense dislike. "I would like to know what you hope to accomplish by killing my men."

"Do not forget to include yourself in that roster," Ruxandra returned with a slight hiss. Her Hungarian was quite guttural and did not sound natural passing her lips. Ambrus smirked ever so slightly at the remark and took a step forward. His right hand, the one that gripped his pennant-adorned pike, was covered by a full gauntlet, but the other was bare, a fact that struck the Assassin as odd. His eyes shot back up to Ambrus' face when the man spread his arms wide and released a loud, rumbling laugh.

"Which of you will fight me, then? Which of you will fight me in an attempt to reclaim this squalid ruin of a city?"

"Let me," Ruxandra instantly murmured to her ally. "I have fewer wounds than you."

Federico shook his head. "They are slight… and this is the place of my birth. By my hands Firenze will be free." He left her side without further word and pointed his rapier at the general. "En garde."

If the men of lower rank had been adept with the cumbersome weapon, Ambrus was an expert. He assaulted the Assassin with a series of fluid strikes that had him ducking, jumping and rolling out of the way. After many minutes Federico had yet to even scrape the silver armor. Ruxandra stood by the crowd with a nervous finger trapped between her teeth, feeling her heart beat faster every time it appeared the general would tear right through her companion with the gleaming head of his pike that was so sharp it whistled as it pierced the air.

She released a little cheer when Federico managed to dart beneath a broad sweep and land the tip of his sword beneath the knight's shoulder armor, but it did little to slow him down. If anything Ambrus was turning into a deadly hurricane that sought to capture and batter the Assassin like a leaf. With every swing and jab Federico was becoming more worn out and incapable of presenting any offense.

But then he got lucky. A downward smash landed on the street instead of his head and Federico planted one foot on the shaft of the pike, extending his arm as far as possible for the rapier to penetrate the eye slit of Ambrus' helm. He jumped back when the man shrieked in pain, a sound akin to a yelping wolf. With a snarl he tore the plumed helmet off his head and hurled it away. Federico had the fortune to strike the outer edge of his left eye, his newly arrogant smirk making the man's lip curl to reveal yellow teeth.

"I've wasted enough time toying with you…" Ambrus rumbled. Ruxandra's heart sunk as she heard the sound of metal leaving its sheath— Federico now faced a broad sword in addition to the pike. The general sneered at his opponent's faltering countenance. "This ends now!"

His quarry fended off the first three sword slashes but was abruptly caught in the side of the head by the blunt end of the pike, and the knight took advantage of his stunned reaction by ramming Federico's jaw with the pommel of his sword, laying him out in the street. Ruxandra shrieked upon seeing the sickening impact that had to have broken some teeth. Ambrus flipped his main weapon around, ready to drive the iron spearhead through his opponent's heart. Federico tasted blood and had to turn lest he choke on it. "Die…" the man growled.

Before he could impale his foe, Ambrus caught sight of the woman sprinting toward him with her dagger in hand. Her eyes were filled with reckless abandon and desperation, but she moved too quickly to cut with the sword. His blade rushed through empty air as Ruxandra dove to her stomach, sliding behind the knight before gathering one foot beneath herself. With both hands firmly gripping the handle of the dagger she fiercely plunged it into the base of his spine.

The general fell to his knees, but before he could release any sounds of death his throat became fixated by Federico's Hidden Blade. "Libertà…" he muttered. "In killing you I free my people… and avenge my family. Creapa, abominato." The blade noiselessly retracted and Federico stared into the eyes of the dead man until he fell forward, meeting the ground with a loud clatter. His legs felt like spaghetti noodles and blood still oozed from the corners of his mouth so Ruxandra draped his arm over her shoulders to support him.

"Libertà!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "Libertà per il popolo!" Cheering from the crowd instantly summoned Lorenzo de' Medici from his abode who rushed down the steps to gaze at the deadly duo in wonder.

"Quickly…" Federico groaned, "rally the officers and leave none of the invaders alive."

The great man nodded vigorously. "I recognize you, Auditore! I never thought I would see the day when you returned to us. Dio ti benedica."

Regrettably the only response Federico was capable of giving was a pathetic smile. "Grazie, Altezza…" Ruxandra winced as she suddenly struggled to support his unconscious form, but a pair of men from the crowd helped get him back to La Rosa Colta. With the assistance of Paola she removed his shredded jacket and bloodstained cotton shirt and set to work staunching the myriad cuts he had received. There were a couple wider gashes that would require stitching but first she had to know the severity of his oral injuries before his own blood strangled him.

Gently prying open the man's mouth revealed he hadn't broken any teeth, just bitten his tongue. "Futu-i…" she mumbled while sticking a clean washcloth between his lips. "What do I do, Paola?"

The woman looked up sadly. "I am afraid there is not much to do besides stop the flow. Leave the cloth and I will get some ice to slow the bleeding." She scurried away and the huntress tilted Federico's head to examine the trickling wound there. Ruxandra dampened a gauze pad with some antiseptic and gently pressed it into his broken skin, earning a slight groan from the man.

"You fought well…" she quietly spoke, "well enough to give the people strength. They are purging the city of my uncle's men at this very moment. Rest now Federico, my champion." His mouth moved to form an answer yet no words came out, so with a smile his ally's lips alighted upon his cheek. "Our duty here is accomplished."


	13. Chapter 12: Attrition

_**Translations**_  
_Merda: shit_  
_Mi dispiace: my apologies_  
_Bulangiu: jerk (R)_  
_Firlama: cheeky bastard (T)_  
_Fratello: brother_  
_Zio: uncle  
Condottieri: mercenaries_  
_Dottore: doctor_  
_Prego: please_  
_Principessa: princess_  
_Buna seara, signori: good evening, gentlemen_  
_Zoccola: whore/prostitute_  
_Cazzo: dick_  
_Bellissima: very beautiful_  
_Futu-te: fuck you (R)_

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Attrition

Like a wild blackberry bush Florence rapidly sprang back to life after the removal of Ambrus Meszaros and his Hungarian knights. Without their leader the city officials were easily able to eliminate the remaining invaders with the help of Ruxandra. Doctors tore down the boards over their clinics, blacksmiths lit fires in their furnaces, and tailors dusted off their sewing machines. Outside Palazzo Medici a small celebration quickly grew to festival of revelry spanning four blocks. The ruckus outside La Rosa Colta roused Federico.

He was momentarily confused, for it felt as though someone had stuffed his mouth with cotton. He tried moving his tongue around but realized he couldn't feel it at all— it was totally numb. After removing the coarse washcloth he stretched his jaw which led to the memory of being struck by the pommel of Ambrus' sword. "Cristo…" he groaned, "what a skirmish that was." Then he remembered how he had won the fight and glanced around the room, but Ruxandra was nowhere to be seen.

Cautiously Federico swung his legs over the bed and stood up slowly, allowing his swirling head to clear before shuffling out the door. The bordello was completely quiet, almost ominously so aside from the festivities on the street. He debated going outside, thought better of it, then turned toward the cooking area to scavenge something to eat. He almost ran right into his female accomplice.

"Merda!" Federico shouted, placing a hand over his racing heart. "You nearly scared me to death! Why are you sneaking up on me like this?"

She hid her amusement well. "Mi dispiace, I thought you heard me. I just came in to check on you." Ruxandra took a step back to look the man up and down. She didn't see any reopened wounds and Federico almost seemed to be at full strength. "Open your mouth," she instructed. He did so without protest and she examined his tongue, which had finally stopped bleeding. "Does it hurt to speak?"

"A little," the man admitted, "but I'll be fine."

"You have to watch what you eat, or that injury will get infected. Only soup until it heals."

Federico followed her into the kitchen where a large pot was steaming over a dull fire. He leaned against the wall while she ladled some of the thick orange liquid into a bowl and sprinkled some freshly chopped herbs on top before offering it. The concoction smelled wonderful and tasted even better, making him groan in satisfaction which solicited one of Ruxandra's rare genuine smiles. "This is delicious… I had no idea Paola could cook like this."

The grin abruptly faded. "_I_ made it, bulangiu. Just say 'thank you' and eat your fill."

Federico stirred the carrot, potato and turnip stew while avoiding the scalding gaze he received. "Grazie, Ruxandra. I appreciate the care you have given me. But I wonder why I cannot feel my lips or tongue still. Were you desperately kissing me while I was unconscious?"

"You wish…" the woman scoffed. "That is the effect of clove oil, firlama. It will recede soon enough."

"I don't think it's fair for you to insult me in other languages," Federico said after another few sips. "For all I know you could be calling me very nasty names."

Ruxandra just sighed. "Shut up and eat, or I shall wound more than your feelings. And when you are finished, return to bed and rest so you will have enough energy to continue our duty."

The Assassin grinned broadly and finished the stew in silence. After receiving a glare that lasted several minutes Ruxandra left through the back door without saying anything. She was probably gathering supplies for their return trip, likely medicine and bandages to tend his wounds. Federico ruminated over the fact that she was treating him like a child by dictating what he ought and ought not do, and as he ventured upstairs he wondered if she would have treated Ezio the same way had he been in the same condition. _'I dare believe she actually cares about me…'_ Although the soup had warmed his insides, the thought made his blood flow even faster.

The next day Federico awoke in the early afternoon. Although still sore from the battle, the cuts and gashes stung a lot less. He stood up and stretched carefully lest he pop the stitches in his upper body. On the bedside table was a teacup filled with a sachet of herbs; a still-steaming pot of water sat nearby. He picked up the little note included: _"Raspberry black tea to help you feel better. I bought it from a Chinaman, and it was expensive, so you better make sure to drink every last drop!"_ With a smile he poured water over the teabag and let it steep, thinking how like her father's pen her handwriting was. _'I hope Mario and my father discovered something useful in Budapest…'_ Federico's own thoughts were suddenly answered by Ruxandra who entered the room wearing a perturbed expression.

"Ezio is here," she said after a moment. "He received a letter via carrier pigeon from the Grand Master and Ser Giovanni." Briefly her eyes flicked to the untouched teacup.

"Well bring him in!" he chuckled. "We have much to discuss!" The woman disappeared and in walked Ezio who pushed the hood off his face. "Why have you left Roma four days into your investigation?" Federico wanted to know.

His brother leaned against the dresser but did not look at all relaxed; he scowled at the rug beneath the bed a moment longer before meeting Federico's eyes. "I discovered what Matthias wants from the Vatican after only two days… The Borgia are at the other end of this plot, fratello."

"Si, I know," the shirtless man nodded.

Ezio remained tense. "Rodrigo has something in his possession… It is almost identical to the papal staff, but _that_ remains with the Pope… though I cannot say that position will elude him for much longer."

"Is it… Soul Calibur?" Ruxandra hesitantly inquired. But Ezio only shrugged.

"I don't know. All I know is the staff never left his side. He went around the city, wandering from slum to slum gathering a crowd of people. Then he would stand before them while they cheered like he was Christ reborn." Ezio paused, his brow furrowing deeply. "He just may be… The acts he performed I can only describe as miraculous."

Here Federico and Ruxandra shared a look. "Like what? Curing terminal diseases? Reanimating the dead?"

"He did everything but that," Ezio went on. "Sick children suddenly able to run and play like they had been born well. Coughs eased, joints freed from aches and pains… The people love him. More than the actual Pope it seems, who is nearly on his deathbed. I couldn't stand watching him bask in their reverence, then I received the letter from Father and came here as fast as my horse would carry me."

"Ah, the letter…" Federico stood up expectantly. "May I read it?"

Ezio shook his head. "There's no need… It's a forgery."

"What?"

"Something has happened to them in Budapest," Ezio clarified a bit irritably. "No doubt they've fallen into some trap laid by Matthias."

"But he couldn't possibly have known they would be coming!" Federico felt his heart hammering in his chest. If his elders were in peril it was imperative to go rescue them straight away! But Ezio was acting too casual, as though this matter would resolve itself! Had there been some kind of counter measures to their actions already in place? Matthias would have needed the ability to see the future.

"What did the letter say?" Ruxandra asked after a moment of tense silence.

Ezio's dim eyes lowered again. "It was written as if by the hand of our uncle. He asked me to steal the device from Borgia and bring it to Budapest, saying it would be better to give Matthias what he wants instead of having him pillage Italia to find it."

"But the letter _we_ intercepted from Borgia said he was going to raise an army of fanatics to assault Monteriggioni and get the Ring of Hunyad, which he was then going to trade to Matthias for… something." It was Federico's turn to frown at the carpet, then his eyes shot toward Ruxandra with more animosity than intended. "You swear you are not withholding any information from us this time around? You told Mario _everything_ you knew about your uncle's conspiracy?"

The woman looked betrayed. "I promise, Federico. How could you even ask me that?"

"Because it is _your_ family who is responsible for this vile plot!" he shouted. He immediately regretted the words; Ruxandra stood for everything opposite her uncle so it was unfair for him group them together. Even the object that was the source of all the malice besieging them hadn't been something she or her father had asked for. _'Just another reason it needs to be destroyed…'_ he resolved with a sigh. "Mi dispiace, Ruxandra… I didn't mean that. None of this is your fault. I wouldn't know what to do if I lost our padre and zio…"

"We need to find them, obviously," Ezio stated with a snort. "There's no other course of action— we're going to Budapest." He turned to give the woman a hard look. "And you're coming with us since it's your homeland."

Ruxandra frowned at that and crossed her arms. "I have not lived within the borders of the Kingdom of Hungary since the day I was born," she glowered. "But luckily for you two I have spent more than enough time in Budapest over the past year. I will guide you there; we will rescue your elders."

"And what if Matthias _is_ holding them hostage?" Ezio put in. "What if he _is_ counting on our arrival—"

"And will only release them if we trade him the Borgia weapon…" Federico finished. "Or the Ring of Hunyad…"

"Or both," his ally added with a sigh. "This is one trap he could not have come up with on his own. Someone else must be influencing him. I wish I knew more of the court."

"Well, wishful thinking isn't going to do us any good." Ezio straightened while flashing his arrogant smirk. "I say we do as Matthias asked and steal the weapon from Rodrigo. There's no way in hell we'd hand it over to him, but it's too powerful to be under Borgia control anyway."

"Are you mad?" Ruxandra scoffed. "If my uncle knows we entered his domain with both objects he greatly desires, he'll have us hunted and killed, then once he has them he'll kill Mario and Giovanni. No, the only way we can save them is if we make him believe we will surrender the items once he returns the men unharmed. Or one of us can distract him with the Borgia weapon while the other two free your elders."

Federico made a fist. "Then it is decided. Tonight we shall return home to take the Ring of Hunyad with us; it won't be safe without anyone there to protect it. Mario's condottieri are not enough. Then we ride to Roma to separate Rodrigo from his miracle weapon. _Then_ we head to Budapest to meet with Matthias."

Ezio shrugged as he headed out the door. "I've heard worse plans than this. But I guess we don't really have a choice, do we?"

"Not if we want to see them alive again," his brother agreed.

* * *

The cantering of the horse made Federico wince. Each hoof impact sent an uncomfortable jolt up his spine, but he knew he couldn't rest until his family members were safe at home once more. A waxing moon hung high in the sky, revealing the green fields they rode through, and winked out of sight as they came upon the great walled fortress of Monteriggioni at dawn. Federico bade his allies to wait and gather supplies while he entered the Sanctuary. Being so deep in hallowed earth made him tingle, but only one dais out of the several holding mysterious artifacts caused his hair to stand on end as he slowly approached the Ring of Hunyad.

He could never look into the red gem's many facets for too long; it was quite unnerving, and as soon as he secured the band in a pouch within his jacket the serpentine voice attempted to coil round his rational thoughts. But the only thing on his mind was rescuing his patriarchs, so the voice faded to a mere whisper he could easily ignore. As the heavy stone slab sealed the entrance to the Sanctuary once more he paused in the office to glance at the Codex map. "I promised Mario I would complete it… I know he'll be around to hold me to that promise. Only five pages left."

"Another day without sleep…" Ezio loudly yawned from the rear of their convoy. "As soon as we put enough distance between the Vatican and the staff, I'm setting up camp alongside the road and resting for at least eight hours." He didn't have to wait that long. After passing through Florence again they rode for one more hour until Federico had to dismount and stretch his legs. Ruxandra did too, skirting the edge of the glade they had taken shelter in. Sunshine filtering through the canopy of leaves mocked the ominous nature of their quest and she sighed, wondering if Federico would be in good enough condition to fight for his elders since that would most certainly be the case.

The man in question sat in the moss and tried to rub his shoulders, but his biceps were too bulky and didn't allow him to reach the spot that really ached. He silently watched Ruxandra jump to reach a low branch, then she swung to a higher one and hoisted herself up. Her goal became clear when she stretched out to pick a pink and yellow apple and tossed it to him. "You know what they say about keeping the doctor away," she smiled.

"A dottore is not what I need. A bath and a massage would do just fine." Federico bit into the sweet fruit nonetheless. After Ruxandra gently dropped a few more to the ground she landed gracefully and put them in a saddlebag.

"Poor Ezio is completely asleep," she sighed. "I would feel bad waking him up already."

"It is important that we reach Roma as soon as possible, but if he is too tired to do any fighting we will most certainly give up claim to the Borgia weapon. I need his head to be completely clear and focused." Federico chewed thoughtfully while the woman eyed him shyly, her eyes darting away whenever he glanced over. After tossing the core he fixated her with a stare. "Why are you looking at me that way?"

Ruxandra kept her attention on the clover. "I have been trying to decide whether or not to rub your back for you. I know you hurt still…"

Federico sat up expectantly. "Prego, if you would not mind, it would make riding a lot easier." His accomplice shuffled over wearing the hint of a grin and waited patiently for the man to shed a few layers. First the duster jacket, then his doublet with the attached hood, and lastly the long-sleeved undershirt. As soon as he felt her thumbs pressing into his skin he groaned deeply and slumped forward like a rag doll. Ruxandra giggled but otherwise worked his muscles in silence, pushing tension from his body as though she were kneading dough. He certainly felt more flexible when she had finished.

"Put your clothes on, messer. It would look bad if Ezio awoke this instant."

Federico smirked at that. "It certainly would look bad if you were undressed as well, but thankfully that is not the case."

Blue eyes rolled skyward. "You have already seen me half nude enough times."

"During most of those occasions you had undressed of your own accord," he kindly refuted.

"Not the time you entered my tent on our way to Transylvania!"

Federico laughed. "True, but trust me when I say I saw nothing of significance."

"Or not two weeks ago when you entered my hotel room just as I was getting out of the bathtub." She knew he had stared that time and tried to look offended but ended up giggling instead.

A blush claimed the man's cheeks. "Admittedly I saw to your backside… But it is not an image I keep in my immediate memory," he reassured the huntress. He did, however, recall the reveal of her scars very clearly. She had been completely nude then, but the markings on her back were like briars keeping his hands off her smooth, luminous skin. Federico shook those compromising thoughts away and sunk deeper into the mattress of moss. "Let us rest now. If we wake at dusk perhaps we can make it to Roma unseen; Borgia will have no idea we come for his miracle-maker. We will probably need your night vision to keep guards off our backs as well."

Ruxandra nodded and curled up on her bedroll. "See you after darkness falls," she murmured.

Ezio, having slept the longest, awoke first to the chattering of nocturnal creatures and momentarily forgot where he was. Then he heard his brother snoring and made out his shape beneath the light of the nearly full moon. "Wake up, fratello," he said while giving a bare-chested Federico a shake. "Where's your shirt?"

"Xandra…" the man mumbled. Ezio smiled crookedly.

"She took it off you?"

"Massaged me…"

He snorted. "I'm _sure_ she did. But why were you two getting cozy in the woods when we have important business to attend to? Have you listened to nothing I've said about her?"

"What?" Federico sat up with a groan. "What are you talking about? Cristo, I'm cold…"

"Maybe you should get dressed," Ezio snickered. He then stood up and walked over to Ruxandra, nudging her knees with his foot. "Wake up, principessa." Unbeknownst to him she had already woken and heard their entire exchange. It seemed Federico's incoherent ramblings painted an entirely wrong picture of what had happened earlier. She also wondered what exactly Ezio had said about her… Didn't he trust her? She had never done anything to suggest disloyalty. She pretended to yawn as she stood and stretched.

"Bună seara, signori. How far must we ride until reaching Rome?" She rolled up the blanket, returned it to the saddle, then removed one of the apples from earlier and patiently waited for her allies to get ready. Federico finished securing his long coat and raised the hood to shield his visage while Ezio adjusted his stirrups.

"Several hours, but we shall strike while night still hides us." With that the three riders trotted back out into the deserted road. The stars turned overhead and the moon changed the direction of their shadows as they rode further south, passing the modest farming region of Fumaiolo. Then they reached Perugia and Federico knew the once-proud metropolis of Rome was exactly 100 miles away. They spurred the horses to gallops, the jet-black steeds responding with bursts of power, and arrived on the banks of the Tiber River a few hours before dawn. They dismounted, secured their weaponry, and cautiously led the horses across the bridge. Ruxandra shielded herself with the violet cloak to hide her feminine features.

There were a surprising number of guards active as they walked the streets. The path to the Vatican was relatively straightforward and it was within this district they would have to locate the whereabouts of Rodrigo Borgia. Luckily Ezio had memorized the man's habits during the few days he had spent in Rome and knew it was on clear nights like this in which the cardinal engaged in perverse celebrations of the flesh.

"Orgies?" Federico asked with a grimace. "Who on earth would want to see that man with any part of his body uncovered?"

"It's not that the whores enjoy having sex with him and his colleagues, it is the money that buys use of their vaginas."

"Disgusting" was all Ruxandra said as she led her mount to a stable. She could tell there was supposed to be someone to collect a toll for the horses, but the spot was curiously vacant. "This city is eerie… I feel as if we are being watched."

"There's no one around, we would have sensed them."

"Oh? What a magnificent ability." She sounded skeptical.

Ezio didn't feel like explaining eagle vision at the moment and stayed his tongue. "Now, if you've both finished dawdling, follow me." Federico sighed a little when his brother clambered up the side of someone's home and began traversing the area via rooftop. Ruxandra gracefully kept pace with the men, landing on lower buildings without a sound which seemed impossible since her grappling hook should have clanged against the sheath of her dagger. But then again, she was more of a hunter than they, and had honed her stalking skills over five years spent in the wild.

Finally Ezio came to a halt across from a manor whose curtains severely dimmed the lighting within. "He's in there," the Assassin whispered, "probably fucking some disease-ridden zoccola as we speak."

"Ezio," his brother chastised, "there _is_ a lady present."

"So? She's heard worse; she worked for a bordello, remember?"

Ruxandra said nothing, she just rose from her crouched position and began unfastening her double belt. The brothers shared a confused look and kept watching as she slipped off her Hidden Blade and leather arm protection opposite it, then she stepped out of her boots, and _then_ she began to shimmy out of her pants. "Wh-what are you doing?" Federico asked, flabbergasted.

"The only way we are getting in there is if we look the part." She paused undressing and pointed east. "A group of priests is heading this way, drunk as sailors, so we can enter with them. But no one is going to let us in as we are, so take your clothes off."

"I don't like this part of the plan," Ezio instantly whined. "There are several cardinals in there who probably don't care whether their cazzo ends up in a man or a woman, and I'm not about to make myself a possible target!"

"She has a point…" Federico regretfully admitted, "but we're not wearing the kind of clothes they are."

"They're not wearing _anything_…" Ezio muttered. Ruxandra released a huffy breath and finished altering her appearance by artfully tying the cloak around her waist as a skirt and shrugged up her shirt sleeves. For the final touch she freed her golden tresses from their braid, but maintained the maroon head wrap. Since the boys had less malleable attire they stripped down to their undershirts and hose, and all three stood barefoot in the street.

"The drunkards are almost here," Ruxandra said, looking sternly at her cohorts. "I will distract Borgia. Once I have his attention, grab the staff and escape unseen. You can redress, then fetch our horses. Signal me so I can get out, then we flee the city as quickly as possible. We ride to the nearest port and make haste to Venice. Even if he knows where we have gone, Borgia will not follow us to Budapest."

* * *

Surprisingly the plan went off without a hitch. _'Perhaps Ruxandra has foresight,'_ Federico thought as he milled about beside some fat men gorging themselves on wine and fresh fruit. The atmosphere of the lounge room was hazy to say the least. People were indeed fornicating like animals in heat while voyeurs watched rosy-cheeked and fondled themselves. Incense smoke created a veil over everything; it made Federico lightheaded as he watched Ruxandra maneuver through the crowd, smiling at men who eyed her lustfully but shaking her head in denial; she only had eyes for Rodrigo Borgia. And he seemed to have been fixated by her as soon as she stepped through the curtain into his den of sin.

The staff leaned against the back of his plush chair and Federico knew that although the cardinal was distracted by the orgy he would be suspicious of two men slinking about. But he didn't have long to wait until Ruxandra's dance, which temporarily commanded all _his_ attention, caused Rodrigo to rise from his seat and go to her. She had in fact succeeded in drawing the gaze of everyone who was not actively engaging in intercourse, so Ezio and Federico stealthily met behind the throne, marveling at the shining staff that was the color of sapphire and emerald combined. "Bellissima…" the elder brother murmured.

"Grab it and let's get the hell out of here!" Ezio whisper-hissed. A curious thing happened, then: Federico gripped the weapon, which was cool to the touch, and it became completely transparent and wavered as if he were looking into a pool of water; he could clearly see Ezio on the other side, his eyes wide and unbelieving. The liquid flowed into his hand and emerged bubbling, forming a river over his fingers, his wrist, his entire forearm. A strange sensation assaulted his skin— needles were pricking him but they didn't hurt, or were numbing him, or were so hot they chilled him beyond blood and bone, freezing his very soul. When his vision focused it was to see his arm covered by a bracer nearly identical to that which held the Hidden Blade, but it was lapis colored and decorated with strange glyphs.

"…What just happened?" he inquired of his brother, but Ezio had not time nor reason to offer and pulled him toward the door at the rear of the room. Federico cast a glance over his shoulder and spied Ruxandra twirl away from Borgia, leading him on a chase to keep him entranced. The Assassin thought about the time they had spun round and round in the galley of Captain Emin's ship, but she had looked genuinely happy then. The smile she wore now was far beyond disdainful.

They hurriedly put on their white attire, Federico hiding the metamorphosed weapon beneath his sleeve, and brought out the horses. Ezio made sure he had all of Ruxandra's armaments before putting his fingers to his lips and releasing a piercing whistle. The next instant their female ally bolted from the door of the building and flew into the saddle, her mount rearing as he charged forward. "We may have some time!" she shouted, "I left them in a daze!"

Hooves clattered over the bridge just as sentry calls went up, but the trio was already miles ahead of any force sent out to follow them. Instead of the main road north, however, they took one leading slightly east around the mountainous Fumaiolo region. Federico praised the stamina of Transylvanian horses when dawn broke and they finally slowed to a walk. "I would enjoy getting dressed now," Ruxandra said when they stopped on a grassy knoll.

"Are you sure?" Ezio luridly smirked. "You look good like that."

"Futu-te" was his answer. He surrendered her belongings and the men looked elsewhere while the huntress returned to her more functional state. She climbed back into the saddle with a happy sigh and they pushed on. The weather greatly improved their mood and they stopped midday in a tiny settlement seemingly overrun with sheep. "Where are we going now?" Ruxandra inquired after offering the brothers the last two apples.

"Ancona is the nearest seaport, and it will be a short trip to Venezia. Borgia probably expects us to pass through Firenze and possibly Milan. Even if his men follow us out here there are few people to point them after us." The woman nodded in acceptance and leaned back in the grass. She instantly popped back up with a horrified look on her face.

"Where is the staff, Federico? Do not tell me you lost it and we ran away for nothing!"

Ezio grinned as his brother smiled kindly and drew back his sleeve to reveal the mysterious weapon. "That is not a staff…" Ruxandra said in confusion.

"It changed when I touched it; it is just like my Hidden Blade!" A flick of his little finger revealed the miniature dagger and the huntress leaned forward with interest. "See the symbols? They resemble no language I know."

She slightly frowned at him. "You saw no markings like this in my father's journal?"

Now Federico's brow furrowed. "No… should I have?"

"Perhaps… I cannot say. The writings I found in his office depicted similar symbols… Symbols indicative of Soul Calibur. And if what you say is true, if it actually transformed to this shape…"

"It _did_ change," Ezio adamantly interjected.

"…Then it can be no other. This _must_ be Soul Calibur. _This_ is the weapon that can destroy the ring."

Federico instantly realized that he hadn't heard the slithery voice since they had come within range of Rome, which made sense if the device around his wrist was indeed capable of silencing it once and for all. He withdrew the pouch from his coat pocket and felt the cool gold band against his fingertips. A cacophony of curses abruptly erupted in his mind and he physically cringed against the shrieking, hissing words. Ezio and Ruxandra's mouths were both moving but he couldn't hear anything they said, so he held the ring flat in his palm and positioned the point of the Hidden Blade before the ruby, and triggered it.

The gem didn't shatter. The ring didn't fly out of his palm. No violent force was created when the tip of the blade met the stone. But the screaming ceased, then a dull ringing claimed his ears. Ruxandra must have heard it too because she lifted a hand to her head. Ezio gasped as the gemstone suddenly became a maelstrom, a fine mist oozing from the scratched face and coalescing into a red globe. It was pure energy –evil energy– that glared down at the trio, a giant eyeball floating before them. In the blink of an eye it flew into the air just as a breeze billowed through the area and whisked it away.

"Is it over?" Ezio asked after a moment. "I felt like that thing was staring into my soul, trying to decide how to kill me."

"I think… that was the spirit trapped within the ring nearly three-hundred years ago. I felt it staring into me as well." Ruxandra cautiously reached for the piece of jewelry she had last touched as a child. She heard nothing, no false words or impossible promises, nor did she see any macabre images. She slipped the ring over her right middle finger where it was a perfect fit, and although the impressive stone was now marred, it still gave off an aura of grandeur.

"So is it over?" Ezio wondered again. "Is your family free of the curse?"

She honestly didn't know. But the entire Auditore family had gone through hell and back concerning themselves with her family heirloom so it would be a waste of time and the lives of loved ones if she said no. The spirit was gone from the ring, that much was certain… but had they only freed it from a prison and set it loose upon the world? What was to stop it from anchoring to some other object belonging to another family? _'What have I done?'_ Ruxandra shakily thought. _'Were my father's writings only an imagined solution? Was Soul Calibur the means to liberate it instead of destroying it?'_

Federico noticed her ghost-white complexion and gently placed his hand atop her bejeweled one. "Perhaps this is a good thing. Matthias wanted the ring because of what it contained, si? Now that it has been removed perhaps we can trade him this plain object for Mario and our father."

"Not if he wanted Soul Calibur all along…" Ruxandra gloomily replied. She desperately wanted to tell him he had made a mistake, that he shouldn't have pierced the ring with the fantastical weapon around his arm because he had allowed something more malevolent than a mere spiritual fragment out into the world. The vile energy had desired to become part of a whole once more, and Ruxandra knew, deep down in her soul, that it was now waiting for them alongside her uncle in the far north.


	14. Chapter 13: Salvation

_**Translations**_  
_Incredibile: incredible_  
_Scusi: excuse me_  
_Salut: hello (R)_  
_Fiorini: florins_  
_Fratellino: little brother_  
_Madre di Dio: mother of god_  
_Lei e un idiota: you are an idiot_  
_Bastardo egoista: selfish bastard_  
_Figa: vagina_  
_Andiamo: let's go_  
_Madonna: madam_  
_Merda: shit_  
_Grazie Dio: thank god_  
_Cazzo: fuck_  
_Bene: good_  
_Miracoloso: miraculous_  
_Mia cara: my dear_  
_Bulangiu: jerk (R)_  
_Mia columba: my dove_  
_Saruta-ma, timpitule: kiss me, you fool_

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Salvation

It took three days to sail from Ancona to Venice. The trio of assassins spent most of that time in their room below deck avoiding interaction with anyone else. A fair wind blew the small vessel into port and their first order of business was to purchase new horses since the black steeds had been left behind with a family of wine makers. Federico visited a stable while his accomplices purchased food and water for the journey. They regrouped in the bustling boatyard of Squero di San Trovaso.

"I feel like we're forgetting something," Ezio mused as the others mounted their horses. "Oh yes, I was going to bid Leonardo farewell! I'll meet up with you at the southwestern gate!"

"We do not have time to waste," Ruxandra grumbled. "It may take us the better part of a month to arrive in Budapest." Thankfully Ezio made the detour quick, although he wouldn't reveal why his stop at Leonardo's workshop was so important.

After two weeks they came to their first crossing of an offshoot of the Danube River and decided to make camp in a shallow valley. Unlike their previous expedition into the Carpathians summer was in full swing, so the cold water invigorated their spirits instead of dampening them. There was little snow visible on peaks dotting the horizon which made Federico smile, yet he would not have minded seeking shelter in a hot spring cave again. Ruxandra suggested the men hand over their clothes so she could wash off the horse scent in the river.

Ezio sat with his bare back to his brother who recognized the sound of metal tinkering. "What do you have there?" Federico asked while peering over his shoulder.

"It was some time ago you managed to track down a page of the Codex, but Leonardo deciphered it and created this for me." He held the tiny pistol flat in his palm and Federico's eyes widened in amazement.

"Incredibile… Leonardo made this? What does he call it?"

"The hidden gun," Ezio grinned. "Although not the most creative name, I can think of a certain person to test its functionality on." He reattached it to a mechanism on a new fully metallic bracer and it inconspicuously melded to the underside. Then he faced his brother with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Haven't you been wondering what that thing is capable of?"

Federico lifted the arm being pointed at. "Of course I have… but Soul Calibur is not a toy. I may be a little afraid to discover its true power." Ezio shook his head at this and nudged a pebble into the swiftly flowing waters. "I won't hesitate to use it when the time comes, of course," the taller man added defensively.

A week later the trio of travelers arrived at the edge of Lake Balaton. Ruxandra had sought shelter in this wilderness last year after one of her reconnaissance missions in the capital turned violent and she had to flee a contingent of soldiers. They had given up upon stumbling into the marsh, but she had made it to safety by traversing tree branches. Skirting the soggy ground led them to a rockier area on the eastern edge.

"What a peaceful place," Federico commented while gazing into the pure aqua water. "I had no idea your country held such beauty." Ruxandra shot him a warning glare. "Scusi, I mean the country of your birth…" So far he preferred the Kingdom of Hungary to Transylvania's treacherous mountains, but he wouldn't tell her that. "How far are we from Budapest?"  
"Only a few days; we have made good time," the huntress replied while setting up her tent on a patch of grass.

An afternoon of gathering edible plants and berries belied the urgency of their situation. As Federico used a whetstone to sharpen his rapier, Ezio turned toward Ruxandra who was restringing her bow. "Are we just going to waltz into the city and announce to the king that he should surrender our padre and zio, or else?"

"Thank God _you_ are not in charge of the plan…" the woman snorted. "That is not what we are going to do at all. The palace rests on Várhegy, how do you say… the Castle Hill. We will go unnoticed in the city because of this. We must locate one of the advisors and request a formal audience with him. It will be public, so he will have to speak carefully."

"So our strategy is to be _polite_?" Ezio almost barked. "We'll die before we get a word out!"

"We will not," Federico interjected. "We shall survey the city first, locate viewpoints and escape routes. Perhaps we can bribe a few commoners to harbor us if the situation requires it. We can keep our horses near the palace, and if we are asked to remove our weapons, we will still have our Hidden Blades."

The next night, after the fire had been reduced to embers and Ezio had fallen asleep beside it, Federico knelt to push the tent flap aside. "I know you are awake," he quietly spoke, and Ruxandra shifted to a sitting position while sighing deeply. He took that as an invitation to come in. "You really have no idea what will happen, do you? If Matthias will act civilized or not."

"It is true that his mentality has changed since you last encountered him… He has become reclusive instead of aggressive, sending his knights to do his bidding. That is why Ambrus was in Florence, why he relayed messages from the Borgia man. I do not know how my uncle found out about Soul Calibur, or why he wants it. It makes no sense…" She brought the ring into the fire's dying glow. "All he wanted my entire life was this… He attacked my people just to get to my father's ring. But if he thought the spirit within could grant him power, why did he then wish to acquire Soul Calibur, which clearly affected the spirit?"

"It does not make much sense now," Federico agreed, "but tomorrow I know we will learn the truth." He paused uncertainly. "This isn't even your fight; it is not your family members we have to rescue."

"Si, but if my madre and nonna were in the same situation, I know you and Ezio would help me save them. You went all the way to Constantinople with me, and beyond! Now it is my obligation to put an end to my uncle's plots, and offer my bow to those who have fallen prey to them." Even in the darkness, Federico could tell the woman was staring directly into his eyes. "If my father were alive, he would have praised your courage. He would thank you for seeing me through such difficult times, and he would probably ask why I abolished the thought of marrying you." She said the last with a smile in her tone.

"Abolished is a strong word," Federico despondently said. "Have you truly given up on me?"

Ruxandra regarded him with intrigue. "You have not changed at all, not in five years. You are ever the charming, witty, confident man who came up to me in the street so long ago. I _did_ miss you, Federico. I thought about you on cold winter nights; after my mother went to bed I would sit in front of the fire and think about the passion burning within you. When I looked at my scars in the mirror I remembered the way your eyes filled with sorrow as I told you to leave… A part of me wanted you to save me from the whip, but you could have been killed. And I would not be able to live with myself knowing I was responsible for stealing you away from your family. I am not that selfish."

The Assassin's thoughts roiled about his head. _'She hasn't changed at all… She is still the woman I fell in love with, the woman I __still__ love… She was just hiding behind a mask all this time! I'll erase them- her doubts and her fears. I'll give her the happiness she deserves. I'll protect her for the rest of her life.' _Now he knew the children from his vision of the future had been created by him _with_ her. They were the future worth fighting for, worth dying for. But none of them would die tomorrow— of this Federico was certain. There were still evil men to hunt and bring to justice. He had a Codex to finish and more Pieces of Eden to keep safe from Templar hands. The work of the Assassins was never finished… but that didn't mean he had to go on without Ruxandra. They could continue together, as she had said she wanted. Federico intended to hold her to that resolution.

* * *

They entered the capital of the Kingdom of Hungary on a partly cloudy day that was uncomfortably humid. "Welcome to Budapest," Ruxandra said from her position between the brothers as all three stood staring up at the magnificent castle. The area they were currently in was comprised of the lowest caste— peasants and laborers dressed in plain, modest clothing looked upon them with interest and offered warm greetings which the huntress returned. "Salut" was easy enough for the men to learn.

The middle-class district was too chaotic for anyone to have noticed the trio of Assassins. Shop owners bellowed their services over the din created by vendors haggling with customers, animals, and the laughter and cries of children. "This is madness…" Ezio uttered as he was pushed by an irate egg seller. "How does one hear themself think?"

"I would not know," Ruxandra tersely responded. She slipped between people easily, being so petite, but it was a harrowing task for the brothers. People shouted presumably rude things while they shouldered through the throng, finally exiting the market. A tall arch marked the entrance to the aristocratic quarter and this area was substantially less hectic. Fine fabric sat on display inside tailoring shops and blacksmiths crafted keen weapons –most notably cane swords, bodice knives and stilettos– for the nobles to protect themselves. The market stalls sold artisan cheese, bread and wine, and Ezio almost broke his neck whipping his head around to stare at each pretty girl who passed by.

After hiking up the steps to the palace a man in blue and gold livery approached. Ruxandra held out a hand to stop her allies and briefly conversed with him. "If you are here for a council with His Highness, I am afraid he will not be seeing anyone until after tonight's gala."

"Gala?" Ruxandra repeated. "What is he celebrating?"

The manservant looked shocked. "Surely you joke, milady!" He glanced at her attire again after using that title. "Well, perhaps not… Tonight is the Midsummer Masquerade Ball."

"I see," the huntress said through pursed lips. "For your information, sir, I have just returned from a hunting party, so please stop staring at me like I am one of the animals I shot."

The man held up his hands in defense. "Forgive me, milady! Give me your designation so I may make sure your entrance to the ball is announced!"

Ruxandra thought quickly. "Garai," she lied, using her mother's maiden name. "My grandfather was a palatine."

"Oh!" the man exclaimed, then bowed deeply. "Lady Anna Garai! Please accept the court's humble apologies regarding your betrothal to His Highness. We tried convincing him to accept, but he said there were irreconcilable differences in the opinions of your barons."

"Uh, thank you… We are not upset with him." Although Ruxandra gagged at the thought of anyone her age marrying her uncle, she was more than willing to maintain the mistaken identity she had been given. "Good day to you, sir," she finally bowed, though the man's was much deeper. She returned to the Auditore brothers wearing an arrogant sneer which she supposed she should practice. "Signori, it is time to shop. We have become guests at the Midsummer Masquerade Ball."

"Scusi?" Ezio's jaw dropped. "What do you mean?"

Ruxandra fanned herself haughtily. "I mean a noblewoman like myself would not miss this event for the world! Anna Garai just may reconcile with the king."

"Anna Garai?" Federico repeated.

"I believe she is a cousin of my mother's," the girl explained. "That man said she was betrothed to my uncle but because the clan did not support his kingship, he did not marry her."

Ezio shook his head in confusion and muttered "politics… I am glad to stay clear of them."

"You are forgetting something important though, Ruxandra…" his brother broached. "We only have fiorini, not the currency in use here."

She held up a finger having thought of a solution to that issue. "Personal guests of the king need not pay when he has been kind enough to offer us the services of his best tailors."

With this explanation she was able to rent a room at the most opulent hotel in the city, then the trio made their way to one of the clothiers nearby. Velvet and brocade reigned supreme, and apparently the current trend was emulating Venetian fashion. While Ruxandra was being fitted for a gown Ezio and Federico slipped into less complicated outfits— silk shirts beneath ankle-length crushed velvet robes in black and navy blue. Shiny leather shoes and livery collars indicative of their princely ranks (another lie from Ruxandra) completed their ensembles.

"These Hungarians know how to dress comfortably, I'll give them that," Ezio said once outside. "And just look at this collar… It must be pure gold!"

"If they are solid gold, I doubt they would be given away for free," Federico refuted. "Even if we are princes."

"They might if Matthias paid for them," he grinned. "Also, our bracers hide perfectly within these wide sleeves." Just then one of the tailors stepped out and Ezio quickly lowered his arm. In very broken Italian the man informed them that Ruxandra's fitting would take a few hours so they should return to the place they were staying. As a parting gift they each received a black mask to wear to the gala, which Ezio tried on before reaching the hotel. "This is perfect. Now we can locate our padre and zio without raising suspicion, then show Matthias you don't mess with the Auditore!"

'_He already has…'_ Federico thought, recalling that Ambrus Meszaros had been responsible for the deaths of their mother, sister, and younger brother. Ezio was not one to dwell on negativity or the past, however, so he withheld the comment. Back in their room the brothers made idle chatter until the subject of what they would do after these events were concluded came up. "I wonder if Mario will make Ruxandra an official member of our Order," was what the older man said.

"If we succeed tonight, he should. If Matthias kills him before we find him, well, that's that."

"You do not seem very optimistic, fratellino," Federico frowned.

He waved flippantly. "I still don't trust her. She was willing to get up close and personal with Borgia even knowing how perverted he is!"

"She drew his attention from us. You think we could have walked in there and taken Soul Calibur and walked back out?" His sarcasm received a scowl and he shook his head, inhaling deeply. "You will have to get used to seeing more of her, regardless…"

"_Why?_"

"Because I'm going to marry her." Ezio stood up at those words, ready to explode. Federico rose as well. "This time I'm serious. I was serious then, but I did not realize the truth of the situation… Now we have almost come to the end of the road, finally, and I'm not going to walk away from her again."

"_She_ told _us_ to take that damned ring back to Firenze!" Ezio hollered. "She _told_ you to leave! She didn't need our help anymore! Madre di Dio, lei è un idiota!"

"You have no right to tell me who I can and cannot fall in love with, bastardo egoista!" Federico shouted back.

"Oh, so _now_ you love her?! After you told me that she wasn't the same girl you fell in love with?! You said what previously attracted you wasn't there any longer, your words exactly! You _lied!_ Your feelings could sabotage our mission! Our last remaining family members could die because of your love for Roxana!"

"That is the most idiotic thing you've ever said," Federico scoffed. "What are you really so afraid of, Ezio? You think I'll abandon our family to be with her?"

The man with brown hawk eyes made a fist and turned away, half ashamed of what he was about to say. His voice came out wavering. "It's not fair… I should have had Cristina… she was the one for me! I gave her up for our cause and expected you to do the same! Are you really going to drag Roxana into the dangers we face every day? How could you have children knowing they'll be hunted as mercilessly as we?"

Federico placed a hand on Ezio's sagging shoulders. "There is no need for you to be jealous, fratellino. There is a woman for you in the world… You just have to have the courage to find her. And when you do, don't let her go. That's how I feel about Ruxandra."

"You always were more of a romantic than a lover of figa," his younger brother smirked in acceptance of the decision. Glancing out the window revealed night had just about fallen; lamps were being lit and people emerged from their homes in their finest garb. "I'd say it's about time we join them in the palace, eh? The sooner we get in the more time we have to find Mario and our father." With that Ezio placed the mask over his visage and smiled widely. "Andiamo!"

* * *

"Presenting… Lady Anna Garai!" Ezio turned toward the announcer at the hall's entry and felt his mouth open in amazement. Ruxandra's golden hair was piled high on her head and her face was framed by long curls. She wore a bright red gown with elbow length sleeves over a gold bodice and lace gloves covered her hands. The nobles around Ezio began whispering to each other; it wasn't every day the once-potential queen showed her face in the capital.

They decided Federico should be the one to explore the palace since he could talk his way out of any encounters with soldiers. But from the looks of things they had all been sent away for tonight's festivities. Ezio kept up his princely charade by remaining aloof, though he did dance with a couple women bold enough to approach him. The throne at the rear of the ballroom was vacant; Matthias had yet to show his face. The orchestra and guests went on without him, however, and Ezio made his way through the spinning crowd to greet Ruxandra.

"Federico?" she whispered while accepting his hand.

"No," Ezio said with a short sigh. They really _were_ in love. "He has gone to search for our elders." Now people were staring at them, wondering why Lady Anna looked so comfortable with the Italian prince. In truth Ruxandra was shaking a bit and didn't feel sturdy in high-heeled shoes. Still she maintained her composure and as a new song began she spun across the marble floor with Ezio.

"Where did you learn to waltz?" she quietly inquired. She had always figured Federico's younger brother too brusque and unrefined.

He answered with a sad smile. "My mother taught me."

"It is a good skill for a man of your stature to possess."

"For you as well, Madonna." Always Ezio was looking beyond her gown's high collar toward the throne and glancing around for any suspicious activity. One song became another and another, but still the king did not appear to his guests. _'Why hold a gala and not attend?'_ he mused, leading Ruxandra to a table where refreshments were waiting. They each downed a glass of wine, then another. The woman sighed irritably.

"Where _is_ he? The coward…" As if in response to her insult a fanfare suddenly filled the grand hall and everyone collectively turned toward the golden chair covered in blue velvet. The King of Hungary appeared from behind a curtain and came to stand on the last step of the dais, lifting a hand to silence his audience.

"Welcome, welcome, my loyal subjects…" His raspy, fading voice had some people leaning forward. Ezio tilted his head and he and Ruxandra slowly made their way toward the throne. "Yet again this midsummer celebration falls upon us! We give thanks for a wonderful harvest, a healthy flock, and the expansion of our kingdom! Indeed, we have reclaimed Wallachia from the Ottomans and now set our sights on liberating Moldavia!"

"You mean conquering it…" Ruxandra hissed to herself. "Mehmed has no hold there." The closer they came to Matthias the more they realized something was off about him. Before he had been a powerful, stoic man who stood straight and tall, but now his looked frail and emaciated, his face ghoulish. Dull green eyes had sunk into their sockets and his cheekbones seemed pointy enough to stab one's hand. Soul Calibur had revealed itself to be a healing weapon… was this why he wanted it?

"It has been a fruitful year indeed…" Matthias lowered his arms and a crooked smile abruptly twisted his lips; his voice took on a menacing tone. "But there are those who oppose our success… Bring the prisoners!"

At once several knights pushed a large cage into the open and confused murmuring filled the hall. Ezio felt his blood rise and Ruxandra dug her nails into her palm to prevent herself from charging the dais. Mario, Giovanni and Federico Auditore stood behind the iron bars.

Matthias pointed a condemning finger at them. "The Italians you've been trying so hard to emulate have betrayed you! They sent these men to kill me; they wanted to _assassinate_ your king!"

"Merda…" Ezio groaned. "This is about to get ugly."

"Rodrigo Borgia wants my throne, the position you entrusted to _me!_ My own loyal spies uncovered a plot brewing in Italy that would have allowed that man to usurp my crown and put it on his own head! He had an entire army prepared to cross our borders! Is that what you want, a thief and a murderer for a king?!"

His conviction stirred the crowd and to them the evidence was irrefutable. Ezio and Ruxandra were shoved forward by those seeking to strangle the captives with their own hands. "Death to the invaders!" they were shouting, and "Hang the assassins! Send Italy a message!" The two in disguise were rapidly running out of ideas to save them; Federico wasn't supposed to have gotten himself captured.

The King lifted his hand again to quell the violence. "My lords and ladies, barons and baronesses, dukes, duchesses and palatines… I know you are eager for vengeance. I know your armies stand ready to avenge these atrocities…" If it was possible for the man to appear even madder, he did. "But no blood shall be shed by Hungary. For you see, I have discovered a force more terrible than any army… A limitless power source that now flows through my veins, waiting to wreak destruction on all who threaten _my_ kingdom…"

Ezio didn't like the sound of that. Ruxandra's brow grew increasingly furrowed as she watched her uncle almost double over, the guests gasping and rushing to help him, but as Matthias straightened he released a deep, terrible roar. The aura he gave off was filled with murderous intent and the huntress knew without a doubt that the energy once resting within her father's ring had become part of him. The spirit, made whole by their doing, had completely taken over Matthias' body and soul.

His display wasn't finished yet. The burst of power had snuffed out every chandelier and torch, but the deep red glow emanating from the king's body made it possible to watch his transformation. His skin darkened and appeared to harden, then cracks appeared, oozing blood that evaporated into a fine mist that swirled around his limbs. His golden breastplate rapidly decayed, melding and twisting with his blue tunic to form new azure armor. His spaulders became as bone and the golden coronet sprouted spikes that flickered like coals. Finally, the corners of his mouth stretched into a malignant grin, his nose was seemingly sheared off, and his eyes became nothing more than glowing red pits.

_"Behold… the greatest Nightmare!"_ the monster rumbled. The sword at his side had become an instrument of slaughter, and with it he spilled the blood of those nearest the dais. The grand hall became filled with crying, shouting and screaming as people trampled one another to reach the exit. The otherworldly creature reveled in the chaos, cutting down all who stood in his path as he slowly marched forward. Ezio and Ruxandra skirted the throne and crawled up to the cage where Mario tore his eyes from the spectacle to beam at his nephew.

"Ezio! I didn't recognize you at all! And the Hunyadi girl as well! Gazie Dio! Get us out of here!"

"Where's the damned key?!" Ezio shouted, then realized it was probably on one of the soldiers who had fled. "Cazzo!" he swore, and jammed his Hidden Blade into the lock. It opened in seconds and the three Auditore men instantly set their sights on the Azure Nightmare.

"What is that thing?!" Federico gaped as Ruxandra came to stand beside him.

"_We_ created it…" she breathed. "When you pierced the ring with Soul Calibur, it freed the energy and allowed it to join the spirit residing within my uncle. He was possessed all this time; for so many years he had been searching for the ring to make himself _whole_. But when he learned that he needed Soul Calibur to do it, he set his sights on Borgia. Stealing the weapon played right into his plan… How could I have been so foolish?!"

"There will be time to regret previous actions later!" Giovanni interjected. "Right now we need to stop that monster from slaying any more innocents!" He drew his sword and was about to engage Nightmare in mortal combat, but Federico flung his arm across his chest.

"No, Father! The only thing that can destroy that abomination is _this_…" The lapis-colored bracer gleamed on his wrist, a beacon of hope in the darkness surrounding them. But as Federico triggered the blade and stepped forward, he faltered, for the mysterious weapon was changing again. The liquid soothed his stinging skin as it reformed into a familiar shape— he now held a gleaming rapier with a swept wing hand guard.

Time seemed to slow down as he entered Nightmare's line of sight. He assumed his stance without saying anything while the creature's horrid face twisted into something akin to amusement. _"That sword is useless against me. I have been gaining power all these years, and it has only just returned to the world of men. It is no match against my might!" _To prove his point, Nightmare hefted his own claymore and sought to sever the Assassin's head from his shoulders, but Federico had faith that Soul Calibur would protect him, just as he swore he would protect Ruxandra. Thinking about her sent a deep chill down his spine as though her hands were running down it… lover's hands.

_"Love is true strength…"_ a feminine voice echoed reassuringly whispered in his mind. _"Love leads to the creation of new life. There is no greater power than this…"_ Federico shook his head just as the enemy edge came within inches of his face. The rapier rose of its own accord to stop it, releasing a high-pitched ring. Nightmare snarled and prepared for another strike, this time swinging at the Assassin's midsection. Again Soul Calibur intercepted the blow; again the monstrosity was forced back.

Ruxandra didn't breathe as she watched Federico artfully parry and counter Nightmare's vicious slashes. It felt as if time had stopped everywhere else but within the maelstrom of energy. She sensed something about the weapon in his hand, though, something that gave him a well of strength to draw from. It wasn't courage or selflessness, nor a desire to simply do what needed to be done. Nightmare consisted of all things negative in the world— his hatred for everything living fueled the fire that was his life force.

And then she realized it. Soul Calibur was the complete opposite of the weapon Nightmare wielded. Soul Edge— that was its name. She didn't know how she knew it, but somehow it was in her memory that Soul Calibur and Soul Edge were two halves of a whole, and when someone forced them together they would both disappear. '_Fire and water. Destruction and creation. Masculine and feminine. Hate… and love. It has to be me this time!'_

Federico wasn't aware that Ruxandra made a dash for him. He didn't see Ezio reach out to stop her only for her to wrench herself from his grasp. When Soul Calibur pierced Nightmare's armor a bright light would blind him, but by now he wasn't using his eyes to see the fight. His blade was drawn to the great claymore with a terrible eye in the hilt; it danced in his hand of its own accord. But for all the blows they traded he couldn't feel the monster weakening. _'Is my love for Ruxandra… not enough?_' he thought. Then something smashed into his side and he felt himself falling.

Federico released the rapier as he stumbled back, shouting his disbelief. "Ruxandra, _no!_" he cried. She flashed him a smile before reaching up to catch the glimmering weapon, which metamorphosed into the shape most familiar to her: a bow. Nightmare faltered and in that instant she drew back the ethereal string which summoned a shaft of light for an arrow. She shifted ever so slightly to point at the upraised sword, taking aim at the eye. Then she closed her own and released the string.

* * *

She was back home in Hunyadi Castle. She closed the book she had just finished reading and exited the library, taking brisk steps down the corridor. She came to the landing and went down the set of stairs on the left which led to the armory. Briefly she pressed her ear to the door before pushing it open. Her father glanced over with a smile and put down the sword he was honing to lift her up. "Have you finished reading about knights rescuing damsels in distress?" Laszlo asked.

His red mustache tickled her cheek. "Yes! But Papa, I never want to be a girl like that."

He looked surprised. "Why not? You're going to grow up beautiful whether you want to or not!"

"I mean, I don't need a knight to save me! I can fight off dragons myself!" She punched the air exuberantly which made her father laugh kindly.

"Is that so? Am I going to have a warrior for a daughter?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. Their laughter faded away as Ruxandra regained consciousness. Her eyelids fluttered open but the shapes she saw were hazy, so she closed them again. _'An impossible dream…' _she thought, _'He died just after I was born, so how…?_' Footsteps came to stand beside her and she slowly took in Federico's visage.

"Bene, you are finally awake. I was almost beginning to worry." With a smile he knelt to her level.

Ruxandra cleared her throat before attempting to speak. "What… What happened to Soul Edge? And Soul Calibur?"

"Both gone," the man in white nodded. "When your arrow struck it created some kind of abyss the weapons were sucked in to. Nightmare was absorbed as well; somehow your uncle returned to his normal form. His eyes were completely clear of malice."

Ruxandra smiled at that. "He was always just… a puppet. I wish I knew how the spirit of Soul Edge got into him in the first place."

Federico shrugged and grinned. "We can ask him if you like. We are only a few days ride from the palace." The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously before looking around. She then smiled upon taking in the sight of her own room in Hunyadi Castle; the dream hadn't been completely imagined after all. She sat up slowly, massaging her temples as she did so, before gazing into the man's deep brown eyes.

"I remember a question you asked many years ago… I said I would give you an answer once we returned here, but I never got the chance to do so." Her own eyes glinted coyly. "Would you like to know what I would have said?"

The blushing Assassin put his hands up in denial. "I always knew; you don't need to say anything. But why don't we talk about this later after you have had some time to rejuvenate? I told your mother and grandmother I would bring you down as soon as you woke up."

Mario and Giovanni were seated at the long dining table telling Maria and Erzsebet about the events that had transpired. The older woman almost couldn't believe what she heard, asking how God could allow such travesties to happen. But Hunyadi's widow listened intently and gave a resolute nod once the story was finished. "She did exactly what her father would have done," Maria said, and shared a knowing look with her guests. She was no stranger to the dealings of the Assassins.

Since the Auditore patriarchs had endured mild torture during their captivity they decided to stay and enjoy the hospitality Ruxandra's family provided. Her knowledge of medicinal plants came in handy while treating their wounds, and she was shocked to discover that Federico had received numerous burns from fighting the eldritch creature. They sat up in her room the next night while she concocted a salve, applying it to his hands and arms as he sunk into the plush mattress.

"Miracoloso…" the man sighed when his pain receded. "And they feel so soft now." Ruxandra didn't say anything, she just stood before him wearing the ghost of a smile. Federico thought he might know what the look was hinting at, but he didn't want to be wrong and make a fool of himself. She turned away, then, and took but one step before his hand shot out to grip her own, and he pulled her onto the bed.

"Ruxandra Narcisa Hunyadi, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Although his tone wasn't the most confident, he knew there would never be a better time to ask her the question he properly should have six years ago.

She blinked once before smiling the most beautiful smile he had ever seen; it lit up her face like a thousand candles and made the man melt. "Yes, yes I will…" Then she bit her lip. "When are we going to tell everyone?"

"In the morning… after I've finished making senseless love to you all night long." Federico's lustful rumble made her cheeks turn bright red, but he wasn't over-exaggerating. The passion burning within him threatened to consume him already, yet he managed to quell the inferno enough for his dexterous fingers to undo the laces of her dress. He paused after stripping her down to her chemise, recounting how many times he had already seen her mostly nude and realized it had always been a one-way street. Federico stood on the rug to slowly and deliberately shed all of his clothes until he was standing completely, unashamedly naked. Ruxandra tittered from behind the hands over her eyes even though she was admittedly impressed with his physique.

He was gentle at first, knowing she was inexperienced in such matters, kissing her everywhere so she would learn the feeling of his lips on her skin. He circled her neck and felt the main artery pulsating wildly, then brushed her ears which made her whole body tense up. He kissed her shoulders and down her arms, sweeping her fingers to his mouth like a gentleman. But he couldn't avoid her breasts any longer. The things he did with his lips and tongue made Ruxandra's head swim. Her breathing changed to little gasps of pleasure, urging him to continue.

Her twisting fingers messed up his hair something awful the lower his lips traveled. Federico savored the softness of her navel; it was like sampling a cloud. He noticed how her breathing became shallow and she shuddered a little with each kiss, so he traversed her gradual curves with his hands instead. The way her skin was stretched tightly over her hip bones was oddly captivating and he positioned himself between them which made his bride-to-be nervously cringe. "Relax, mia cara. I was only seeing how well we fit together."

"O-oh…" she laughed shakily.

"I don't intend to rush this. No matter how badly you desire me _right now_, you will just have to wait until I'm good and ready."

Blue eyes narrowed. "You look ready at this very moment, bulangiu."

"If you keep saying things like that, I'm going to make you wait even longer. Until you _beg_ me for it…" She managed to muster some defiance even as he mischievously smirked in her face. But the battle didn't last very long because he couldn't resist her decadent mouth any longer and swiftly captured the source of her dagger-like wit. For a moment Ruxandra was stunned by the intrusion, then began a new skirmish to force his tongue out. She wasn't sure how it escalated to bodily wrestling, but she was giggling uncontrollably as she sought to undo their tangled mass of limbs, and eventually shoved Federico so hard he fell off the bed and she sat up with a gasp.

The man stood to regain some manner of composure, then noticed how Ruxandra was poised like jungle cat, ready to spring away as her eyes glittered their challenge. He feinted by stepping forward and leaped to the left just as she did, caught her by the waist, and landed back on top. The woman was laughing hysterically by now, a mild pitch that made him grin as well. "I didn't know you would find the business of making love so amusing," he said. "I was trying to be romantic, but your roughness is making it difficult."

"Do not lie to me, Federico Auditore. This is exactly what you wanted each time we laid down together. All you wanted was to claim my virginity."

"That was true once…" he whispered back, "but not any longer. All I wish for now is to give myself to you, and for you to trust me not to hurt you. I love you, Ruxandra… I am yours forevermore."

Her eyes closed in acceptance. "And I love you, Federico… All that I am now belongs to you. I will not fight you anymore."

"But mia columba, your spirited antics are most invigorating… I would never want you to just _lay_ there and take me in."

"I will not forget you said that…" Ruxandra smiled, and he felt her completely relax. "Sărută-mă, timpitule."

Kiss her he did, with fervent desire that burned into her and pooled between her thighs. The man felt it there, a white-hot inferno he readily dove into. Their skin glistened with sweat as their bodies moved in opposing rhythms; they both gasped for air as they clung desperately to one another. Federico didn't endure as long as he had hoped, but after a brief respite of tender kissing they fused again, and a few more times after that until the first rays of the sun lanced through the window and the lovers fell asleep, their stamina exhausted.

'_Dawn…'_ the Assassin thought as he drifted into slumber. _'She is the dawn on my new life.'_


	15. Chapter 14: Homecoming

_**Translations**_  
_Anne: mother (Turkish, pron. ah-ney)_  
_Baba: father (T)_  
_Khara: shit (Arabic)_  
_Bana ne bok yaptiniz: what the hell did they do to me? (T)_

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Homecoming

I woke up with flushed cheeks and a strange sensation coiling within my stomach. "You okay?" Rebecca inquired as I slowly sat up. I could feel blood rushing from my head, increasing the intensity of the feeling that something held my insides in a death-grip.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine…" I lied. It was clear that Rebecca didn't believe me but she didn't try to stop me when I stood up and cautiously made my way to the shower. I felt so sweaty and tingly with anticipation, but I had no idea what my body even wanted. Shaun called out my name as I drew the curtain closed and undressed, but I didn't answer. Maybe I couldn't; it felt like my mouth was filled with sand. Whatever this feeling, whatever was weighing me down I hoped would be rinsed clean by the water.

"Dee?" the Englishman said from beyond the curtain, making me jump. "Would you like to tell me what happened in there?"

"Didn't you see it for yourself?" I returned with an unintentional edge to my tone. "Both weapons were destroyed. You could have left me at Abstergo because they wouldn't have learned anything. My ancestor removed the swords from the world… now all you have to find is that Apple of Eden."

He was silent for a moment. "Johnathan is back. You're going home, Dee."

"Great…" I sighed, though I didn't sound happy for some reason. "I can't wait to get out of this cave and into the sunshine. I can't wait to get back to my _real_ life, not those of medieval Turkish assassins or Transylvanian archers. They're not _me_, Shaun." Why did it sound like I was trying to convince myself to believe those words?

I got dressed and stepped out to see the spy that had rescued me conversing with the team of Assassins. He was wearing jeans and a nice button-down, and smiled at me when I approached. "Hey you," he said. "Ready to see the Sunshine State again?"

"I've _been_ ready…" Someone was missing from this circle. "Where's Desmond?"

"Outside, testing some abilities he learned from Ezio," Lucy supplied. She still regarded me coldly, but I decided to be the better woman and stuck out my hand, which she shook after a second. Rebecca gave me a tight hug which made me smile, then Shaun held out his large palm for me to grasp.

"You know we'll keep our eyes on you, just in case," the man half-smiled. "Abstergo may not have forgotten about you."

"Well there's nothing to see in my memory, so I hope they do," I sighed. Then I followed Johnathan up the long set of stairs and into the villa. It was actually dark outside, though, and I couldn't help but scoff. "Nothing to see…" I muttered. He held the Maserati's passenger door open for me and I sat down with another sigh. Right before we left I glanced out the window and swore there was someone standing on top of the decaying Assassin fortress. _'Desmond…'_ I knew he couldn't see me but I lifted a hand to say goodbye anyway.

We drove to an airport in the countryside where my father's personal plane was waiting. As soon as I saw him I dove into his arms and couldn't help but cry, and he held me and said everything would be okay as he had during my childhood. I never realized how much I would miss my parents, but one of the first thoughts I had had upon waking up in that white room was 'will I ever see them again?' So I didn't feel ashamed of sobbing even though I was 23 years old.

* * *

Then I slept. I awoke when it felt like tons of wind was lifting me high into the air, filling my wings and letting me fly into the cosmos. The dream ended when I realized the plane had landed; I sat up in a stupor. My father regarded me with slight amusement as he often had when I'd fall out of bed. "California dreaming," I sheepishly smiled, and we both laughed. As soon as I stepped onto the tarmac I inhaled deeply, exhilarated to be home. A car drove us to my apartment overlooking the bay; one thing I hadn't missed was the San Francisco traffic. But it felt great to be in my natural environment again.

My mother was waiting for me. She hugged me so tightly she almost choked me. "Sorry…" she said through her tears of joy and smiled instead. I searched her face to ask for forgiveness— I had made her worry, made her fear for my life. I was an only child so I knew it would have broken her heart if I had been taken by people who actually wanted to kill me.

"Anne, I'm so sorry I left—" I began, but my father intervened.

"Absolutely none of this is your fault, Didem. Don't even conceive the thought." His dark eyes closed briefly. "Abstergo is to blame… as am I."

"What?" I gaped. "How can you take responsibility for something that evil corporation did, Baba? There was no way of knowing they were going to abduct me from the renaissance fair."

"I should have suspected, though. When I received intelligence reports about the Animus device I should have taken it seriously. But the idea that one could relive the lives of their ancestors seemed impossible and outrageous. While you were gone I researched all the people Abstergo kidnapped and brought to their lab to look for… artifacts… and I heard about the fellow named Desmond Miles who was rescued by the people you were with." He finally uncrossed his powerful arms. "If it doesn't sound too unappealing I'd like you to meet with some of my neurologists so you can talk about what happened."

I agreed and went with my parents to the huge industrial complex outside the city limits that was BayTech, a United States leader in software development for security purposes. My father had built his company with a single dream: to protect people. But our world was becoming increasingly digital and dependent on technology, so he went from state-of-the-art vault security to biometrics, and then began working with the government to develop what they called "subconscious training programs". Like in _The Matrix_, BayTech has been searching for a way to install information in the human brain, be it weapon expertise or the ability to man any type of aircraft or drive any vehicle. Using the government's own counter-intelligence agents as test subjects (by their volunteering) they found a way to "download" linguistics so the agent could become an expert speaker in any given language, but the effect was only temporary.

I told the brain doctors exactly what had happened during my time at Abstergo's lab as well as details about the Animus which they were already familiar with. After the interview and a short diagnostic session to see if my brain was functioning normally, my father took me to his office and placed a signet ring on the desk. "There's no more hiding it, Didem. This is who I am. I'm afraid I've frightened your mother into never wanting to travel because we never know where the Templars are going to appear. She tore me a new one for letting them get to you, but you were strong and managed to get away."

"Only because you sent Johnathan to rescue me," I said meekly.

He shook his head. "Others wouldn't have had the mental fortitude to withstand the Animus… others _haven't_ been able to handle it. The man who they experimented on before Desmond Miles was named Clay Kaczmarek. He became unable to discern the real world from the past, and killed himself to escape it. Your mother and I worried that the same thing might happen to you; praise God it didn't. The Bleeding Effect is a very dangerous symptom of being in the Animus which is why I wanted to have you checked out. But your brain appears to not have been affected at all."

I wasn't so sure of that. I was starting to think the strange feeling I was dealing with –which I still hadn't told my parents or any of the scientists about– was something that had leaked into me from the Animus… from Ruxandra Hunyadi. It almost made it impossible to sleep that night— I saw her and Federico Auditore in my dream, and when they kissed it felt like he was kissing _me_, as if his lips were pressing into my own while I lay in bed. I awoke sweating in the middle of the night, stumbled into my kitchen and opened the fridge to blast myself with cold air.

_"From now on our Order will protect you"_. My father's words echoed in my mind when I looked at the signet ring around my middle finger. It was gold with that stylized triangular symbol etched in the center, a red gem at the base with wings stretching up either side. It was like a modern version of Ruxandra's leather bracer, which had been inspired by the ravens of her family crest. Just then a jolt of pain lanced through my head. I slid to the floor, certain it was going to crack open, with hot tears streaming down my face.

The next thing I knew my eyes were open and I was staring at a hologram of Desmond standing in my kitchen. He smiled down at me and held out a hand. I felt him pull me back to my feet and my heart soared upon seeing him again. But in an instant he was gone, blinked out of existence. I felt my lips trembling before rage filled my veins. "Khara!" I shouted, banging a fist down on the table. "What the hell is going on?! What the hell _is_ this?! _Bana ne bok yaptiniz?!_"

Deep down, I already knew. The answers were waiting within the Animus… and with Desmond Miles.

* * *

**To be continued. . .**


End file.
